The Pub
by calamityglam
Summary: In the event of a whirlwind romance set in Toronto, Marisol Lewis goes to Bristol, England to find and repent for the wrongs she did to James Cook. Cook loves her with all his heart, but can he bring himself to forgive her? Told from end to beginning.
1. The End

Marisol needed to get out of Toronto. To get away from the good memories and the bad. So much had happened in a matter of months and most of it had been hard. She'd lost everything she cared about. The on person she knew for certain she loved was across an ocean. She needed him back.

So she decided to go there.

Cook had logged onto his computer for the first time in what felt like forever. Paddy was back as their moms place, after she'd gone to rehab and gotten the okay to get him back. Cook could have had gone back as well but he decided not to. Scrolling through his dash he eventually made plans with Marisol, which wasn't something he had planned for the day. Scratching his head he shut the lid to his laptop and walked over to his dresser.

Normally he would have just grabbed anything and slipped it on, but this was a little bit different. He wasn't sure why, but he was a little nervous for this meetup. Maybe it was because he hadn't seen her in a while, or maybe it was because he hadn't been eating much lately and had lost a huge amount of weight since she'd last seen him back in Toronto. No matter what it was, he decided to just put on a loose fitting t-shirt and jeans in hopes that she wouldn't notice his dramatic weight loss.

It didn't take him long to walk to the pub as he'd become quite accustomed to getting there. He spent a lot of time there, actually. Sitting down at a table more so near the corner, the bartender immediately sent over his usual drink. He sat there with his back turned to the door as he waited.

She was so ridiculously scared for this moment. It hadn't been on her agenda, seeing as he'd left the country and all, but Marisol was trying this new thing where she was trying to stop worrying so much about everything and everyone. She needed to focus on herself, which definitely wasn't typical. But in order to do that, she had to get rid of all the guilt, and this was at the top of her list.

In her days in Bristol, she hadn't bothered to keep anything organized. Normally everything would be put away, but she honestly couldn't care less. It was a hotel room; it wasn't like she would be staying for much longer. She went to her suitcase for something clean, and quickly put on a tank top and a pair of khaki cargos. She'd gotten the directions from Frankie, feeling too awkward to call Cook for them. It wasn't any less awkward to call Frankie since they'd hooked up, but she had to much dignity to call Cook.

Hailing a cab, she gave the location to the driver and laid her head back against the seat. She would have been freaking out, but the terrible smell of the cab, a combination of cat piss and vomit, was keeping her focused. She didn't know what to expect from this. A part of her was dreading seeing him because she didn't want to come in and shake everything up if he was in a good place. She didn't want to dump everything that had happened in the past month on him.

The cab pulled up and she payed the driver and climbed out. She looked at the pub, extremely intimidated by the plain building. "Don't be stupid." she told herself, walking in. She looked around the place, looking for Cook's frame in the crowd, and not finding it. She hoped desperately he hadn't decided not to come.

Cook had finished his beer and looked around the pub, there weren't many people there for a Sunday night, so he had hoped that she hadn't gotten lost. He probably should have offered to give her directions seeing as she probably wasn't very familiar with Bristol yet. He took another look around still not seeing her. He decided to order one more beer and if she still wasn't here he would leave.

He stood up and this time walked over to the bar, figuring he'd waste some time talking to bartender. "Cook m'boy, you look like hell." Cook waved him off. "Feel like it, too." He shrugged getting another drink. "Just waiting for someone." He explained for no particular reason. "Oh, one of the lasses you've been with for the past few weeks?"

"Nah." He shook his head. "Someone from Toronto. If she can even recognize me." He shielded his eyes to the light as the door opened.

Marisol prayed that he would be angry with her. She was so done with people having sympathy for her, and she certainly didn't deserve it from him. She did another once-over and then spotted him, her breath catching in her throat. He looked rough. She knew he'd taken it hard, but he looked gaunt, eyes sunken in, and cheek bones prevalent. And it seemed like he'd lost some weight, which couldn't be healthy, seeing as he'd been thin before.

She mustered her courage and walked over to the bar, where he was standing. Marisol breathed a 'hey', not really knowing whether or not she was heard or if it would be acceptable to give him a hug. It seemed like they both needed it.

Cook turned slightly when he heard her and looked up. "Hey." He forced a smile. "Long time no see." He stood and hugged her before pulling away and grabbing his beer. He didn't care how it looked, he was going to make it seem as if he was unphased by everything that had happened. He sat back down at the table and looked up at her as he motioned to the chair across from him. "So what's been going on since you got here?"

She tried to hold in the hug, even though she hadn't expected it. He walked away from her, and she knit her eyebrows behind his back. Maybe it wasn't as bad as she'd been told. She followed him to the table and sat down, back straight and off the chair. She crossed her ankles and clasped her hands under the table. "Well, I went to my first Bristol rave, and Taylor was entirely right- things are way more intense here." She decided not to mention that she'd hooked up with Frankie, feeling that it was irrelevant. "How've things been here? Is Paddy okay?"

"Oh things are great!" He exclaimed, knowing that she'd see right through it. "Paddy is good, back with mom. I see him a lot." He nodded, wanting everything to seem perfect, even if he hadn't seen Paddy in months. "Yeah, we're intense here. Sometimes a little too much, but you'll get used to it." He took another big drink of his beer, knowing he wasn't acting normal anymore. "So how long are you here for?"

Cook never acted like this, not even on his best days. He wasn't his usual snarky self, which she had assumed he would still be regardless of what had happened. She knew he was lying; the question was, should she call him out on it? She decided no. "That's good. I'm glad things are better with your mom. And I'd say I'll stay another few days. Maybe longer." She said. She knew it would probably get out eventually, but she thought she should be the one to tell him. "Jace is moving to Toronto. That's another reason I've been here for as long as I have."

Cook nodded again. "Oh yeah, mom is great. Fantastic really. No problems on my end." He scratched his arm, which was weird. He wasn't on anything but was sure acting like it. "Oh he is? That's not good, sorry to hear about it. Maybe your boyfriend Fitzy boy will take care of him." He knew that was harsh but he couldn't help it.

Marisol couldn't say it didn't hurt, but she also couldn't say that she didn't deserve it either. She kept a straight face, but she couldn't help the single tear that escaped her eye. "We're not dating. And we never really were." She said quietly, silently begging him not to ask her about what had gone on in the past two weeks. She didn't want to have to rehash it, seeing as karma had already made her it's bitch, and she wasn't going to take it from him, too. She knew she'd done him wrong, and while she didn't want to have to relive it, she knew she deserved it.

"Could have fooled me." He shook his head. "Usually when you cheat on your boyfriend, it's a dead giveaway that you want someone else. So call me crazy for thinking that you two dated." He shrugged and sat back finishing his beer. He was gonna get another, but decided against it.

"Listen, Cook. I need you to understand something, okay? I loved you. I still do, but now it's different. I loved you as much as I possibly could, as much as I was physically capable of doing. With Fitz it was different. There was this whole new… level, of emotions. Ones that I'd never felt with you. And as much as you don't want to hear it, I loved him more than you." She said, leaning forward, trying to seem like she was angry, but she was more sad than anything. "And besides, he was still in a relationship too, you know. And now he's gone back to her. So karma, you know. It fucking hates me." She said, leaning back again. She looked away from him and wiped the tears away.

"Yeah well you deserved it." He shrugged. "Because I loved you, I did. I've only loved two people ever and you were one of them, congrats. Then you broke my heart, and I came here. Now you're here as well. Cool." He leaned back in his chair honestly not giving a fuck anymore what he said.

She looked at him in shock. "…You _honestly_ think I don't _know_ that I deserve it? That I don't _know_ how much I hurt the two of you? I gave myself _hell_ for what I did to you. I took all the shit that everyone gave me for it, and I absolutely believed that I deserved every singe bit of it. But you can't possibly think that this was entirely my fault." She said, not wanting to play that card; it was apparent that he was going to force her to.

"Well it sure as hell isn't my fault at all." He sat back and looked at her. He hadn't cheated or done anything of the sort, and he wasn't taking the blame for any of this. "You can blame whoever the fuck you want for it but apparently I just wasn't enough for you and your new found love that you _had._" He stressed the past tense as he threw some money on the bar and left.

She followed him out, screaming profanities at him and continuing down the road. "It's not your fault at all huh? Okay, that makes a whole lot of sense." She stopped walking. "I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING!I opened my heart to you. I understand that I hurt you, but I don't want to hurt _because_ of you anymore!" She hoped she caught his attention, because she certainly wasn't done talking.

Cook turned around. "Then don't feel bad about it anymore. I don't care, I'm over it. All of Bristol knows I've moved on!" He glared right back at her. "Ask anyone, I've hooked up with half of the fuckin town by now! I'm over it, over it, over _everything_!" He shook his head and turned back around, walking towards his house.

She ran at him, tugging his arm her way. She resented that she still felt how she did, because he obviously didn't care. He didn't turn toward her. "Look at me." She said, but he didn't comply. "Look at me, god damn it!" He did. "You never called me beautiful. Not once in the entire time I've known you. You could hardly look at me when I got out of the hospital, after Jace. I loved you, don't ever doubt that. I loved you so much, but it wasn't enough. And now I'm completely shattered because of it. I'm so fucked up, I went to the best psychiatrist in this city, and he gave me a full refund and told me not to come back. I suck, I'm a terrible person, and I know it. I'm completely worthless, and I haven't amounted to anything in my entire life, and I'll probably end up with some illegitimate kid that I beat everyday because I can't help it because that's how I've been raised. Did I tell you Jace got me pregnant? Oh, yeah, you weren't in Toronto. He did. I took care of it. I'm strong. I know that I am. But I don't know if I'll be able to take you hating me. I can take everyone else's shit, but not yours. So please." She said. He wouldn't look at her, and it killed her, so she did something she knew he'd be mad about. She pulled him toward her and kissed him. If anything it was to get his attention, but somehow it felt like more than that.

Cook just stood there and listened while she talked. He wasn't looking at her or even really caring for that much. He just stood there listening until he felt her lips against his. Sure it had surprised him but that didn't stop him from pulling her closer and kissing her right back. She sure had his attention now, not that it mattered since he still wasn't going to fight with her anymore. Finally he pulled away from her, a little unsure of how to react.

She looked at him, surprised that he'd pulled her closer. She stood there, not knowing whether or not to walk away or jump him right then and there. "…Let's go." She said, pulling him again, the way he had been going. She had no clue what the hell she was doing, all she knew was that she had this horrible loneliness that had been present since he left. She needed it gone.

Cook nodded. "Uh, y-yeah." He followed behind her as she drug him along. Once he realized that he was actually headed towards his house he took the lead and led her there. Walking up to the front door, he unlocked it and walked inside and pulled her in with him.

Once they got inside, she kissed him hungrily. She'd missed this, and him. She missed everything about him, now that she thought about it. She tugged at his shirt, and noticed how thin he really was, but he didn't seem weak. She kicked off her shoes and jumped into his arms, and he ran his hands down her back and pulled her shirt off as well, as he carried her to his room.

Cook picked and kissed her again as he walked into his room with her. Not bothering with lights or anything he walked straight over to his bed and dropped her onto it and then climbed in himself as he pulled her back over to him, reattaching his mouth to hers.

She reached down between them and unbuttoned his pants as she kissed his neck. "This is so entirely stupid." She said between kisses. Her body hummed with anticipation. She knew that this shouldn't be happening, that she should not be in this position right now, but it felt so good. It felt right, and nothing had in weeks.

Cook pulled away as she talked. "Just shut up for a sec." He smirked and leaned down, kissing her again as he trailed his hands down her side, unbuttoning her pants, sliding them off and tossing them to the side.

She was tempted to say 'Now that's the James Cook I know.' but she decided against it. "You know about my rambling problem." She smiled, thinking back. She just wanted to enjoy this moment, because it seemed like everything was back to the way it used to be between them, even when in reality, everything was so fucked up. And she didn't care how many women he'd slept with since he'd been back in Bristol, or about all the bullshit she'd have to deal with when she got back home. She knew she wouldn't regret this. Marisol slowly, torturously, raked her fingernails down his back, the way she knew drove him absolutely crazy, gaining a hiss from him. Right? This was definitely right.

Cook rolled over afterwards and stood up, putting his boxers on as he rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn't sure of what to do now, it was just kind of awkward as he stood there.

Marisol stayed where she was and stared up at the ceiling, not quite knowing how to put what she was feeling into words yet. She sat up and started to clothe herself, trying to think of something to say. "I loved you, you know. I still do." she said, as she slipped on her tank top.

"Yeah." He nodded. "And I never stopped." He wasn't sure how she would react to that, but it probably wouldn't be any way that he was expecting. He just sat down on the edge of the bed.

She slipped on her pants, and crawled across the bed to wrap her arms around him from behind. "Neither did I." She said, leaning her head on his shoulder."What does this mean?" she asked, longing to know what he thought.

Cook shook his head and turned back to look over at her. "I'm not sure.." He trailed off. "I mean I don't know, I didn't think we'd ever speak again, then you started yelling at me, then this just happened." He sighed and looked at her. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking about all the good we've had together. I'm done with bad, in general, really, not just with us." She said, sitting next to him. She clutched his hand. "I'm so sorry for everything. I felt so awful for what I did, and I absolutely hated myself for hurting you. And now, I'm so completely broken, irreparable. Untouchable."

Cook sighed and sat back onto his bed. "You're beautiful Mar." He confirmed it, even though Megan is totes positive that he has said it before. "I just don't know, I don't want a relationship again, not yet. And I don't wanna move back to Toronto."

"I wasn't asking for that. I don't even know that I'm ready for that. With anyone, not just you." She turned over to him and kissed him. "And thank you." She wasn't sure she even wanted to go back to Toronto, what with everything that had gone on. She certainly didn't want to leave Bristol now, not when things might be getting better between them.

Cook laid back onto his bed as he moved her to sit on him, which was more of her straddling his waist. "I just don't want to go back at all. You can go back but I have no need to. I don't have friends."

"To be honest? I hardly want to go back. There's too much there for me to bear. To painful, and it's not just this whole thing with Fitz. It's my dad, and my mom and my brother, and all of it. I can't handle it any more. I feel like I'm going crazy." she said, wrapping her arms around his torso, and leaning her head down to nuzzle his neck.

Cook just laid there and listened to her as he put his arms around her. "Don't leave then, stay here." He nodded. "Not like _here_, here. But like in Bristol, why go back?" He shrugged and looked down at her.

She looked at him, and saw he was being sincere. "I'll think about it. Well, I've been thinking about it." She said. "I think it may be better for me here. Easier. There aren't so many monsters under my bed." She said, laughing.

"Aren't as many people that actually give a fuck." He shrugged again as he yawned and pulled a pillow off from the top of the bed, laying it under his head. "Legit though, people here don't care."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing. I've been trying this new thing where I only worry about myself, and everyone else can just go on somewhere." She explained, tracing patterns on his chest.

Cook nodded. "That sounds like a good plan. It'll do you wonders actually." He looked down at her and the patterns as he smiled.

"Hope so. I'm so sick of being broken. It gets to a point where you're like a video game that's been scratched a million times: you can only fill in the scratches so many times before the game quits working all together." She said, not really thinking about the analogy. "Oh, my god I just told you I was like a video game. That's almost as bad as being a starfish." She said, covering her face with her hand and shaking her head.

Cook shook his head as he laughed. "Wow, good thing I'm used to you being weird." He laughed again and shook his head looking down at her. "Starfish aren't that bad, reminds me of SpongeBob."

"Patrick," she corrected, "And I'm not that weird. You just have a really bad habit of making me say weird things." she said, pinching him. She remembered how they'd come to the starfish thing, before they'd ever hooked up or really even knew anything about each other. She had been so enchanted by him, and she felt like she'd been such a little girl back then.

Cook shook his head as he moved he hand away. "Don't pinch me." He wiggled under a little but trying to move away. He had lost a lot of weight, but not the muscle. She wasn't just pinching fat anymore, and it kind of hurt.

"I'm sorry." She said, kissing where she'd pinched. "Have you been eating enough? I'm sort of worried about you." She asked. He looked frail; not fragile, but still frail none the less. It wasn't normal, and it couldn't have been healthy.

"Uh, yeah." He nodded, obviously lying. "I am, you know, eating whenever I get hungry and stuff." He scratched his head and looked away not wanting to make solid eye contact with her.

"You're a terrible liar. Three meals a day from here on in, and if I have to be here to cook them, by god, I'll do it." She said, tapping his nose. She was sincerely worried about him, and she had been since the day he left. "Can I ask you something?"

"I'm not hungry." He shook his head as his stomach talked for him. "Ignore that, I'm really just not hungry at all. Really." He forced a smile. "I'm fine, really."

"You're scaring me. You need to eat. It's not healthy." She said, but she knew it wasn't going to get her anywhere for the moment. "But, what I was going to ask. How bad was it? When you got here? After you left, I mean?" She'd been curious, seeing as when she wrote to Paddy, he'd said that Cook cried a lot. She wasn't going to push it, but she was morbidly curious.

"Bad." He looked away from her, not wanting to admit to it. "Really bad, I couldn't take care of anything. Not Paddy, not myself, I couldn't hold a job, no one wanted to be seen with me or even look at me." He sighed. "I blamed myself for everything, even things here that didn't involve me.."

She listened to him, letting a few tears fall on his chest. "Look at me." She said, and he complied. "I'm so sorry that you felt that way. I'm sorry for everything, and I hate that I hurt you. You didn't deserve that." She tried to explain, but it seemed that everything was hitting her again, and she couldn't help but let out a few sobs.

"Stop." He shook his head. "Don't cry. It's all fine. Obviously I'm over it, as you can tell." He nodded and looked down at her. "Everything it better now." He leaned down and wiped her face.

Her eyebrows knitted together. "I love you. And I never should have done what I did." She said, curling into him. She felt safe for once, like she had nothing to fear. She knew it wasn't fair to act like she was acting, but she couldn't help it.

Cook shrugged and laid back. "Just stop. I'm over it, and it's fine. No use in bringing it back up. No one wants to relive it, no one wants to hear about it again. Let's just drop it."

Marisol rolled over, curling up on her side. "I still love you, though…" She whispered, knowing it was barely audible. She immediately regretted pulling away from him. The loss of contact was hardly bearable.

"I know." He said softly, looking over at her but not touching her. "I still love you too.." He kept his voice quiet, he wasn't sure why though. He wasn't really hiding it from anyone.

She rolled back over, not saying anything at all. She scooted closer and put one hand on his stomach, the other into his left hand. She kissed his cheek, reassured about her feelings. She hadn't quite figured out if things would go back to the way they were before or not, but it seemed they were headed toward a better place.

"I'm tired." He looked down at her. "Can we just go to sleep, or at least just me if you're not staying?" He pullled the blankets up as he laid his head back onto the pillow; yawning again.

"You don't mind that I stay?" She asked him, hoping he wouldn't, because she was not only sick of sleeping alone, but she was also scared of taking a cab to her hotel this late.

"Nah I don't mind as long as you let me sleep." He laughed and rolled over, making more room for her.

She climbed into the bed with him, and snaked an arm around his too-thin waist. "G'night then."


	2. Fitz

…I have several stories about him.

After he lost his memory, when I went to see him in the hospital, I walked into the room and I could hardly keep it together. But I knew he recognized me, deep somewhere inside his brain. "Tell me. Everything." were the only words he said to me, so I sat there in the same hospital room that I was in, only he was in the bed this time, and I told him about his life. I told him about his abusive father, and I even told him about mostly I told him about us. I told him about how close we were, and then about him coming to my rescue. And then about him admitting that he loved me, even though he was still in a relationship with Clare. I told him that before we were so in love. And we were. He told me that out of everyone, it was me he remembered the most, that he trusted me the most. "Can you just hold me? I haven't been sleeping much. I've got all of this stuff jumbled up inside me, and I can't make sense of it." he told me, so I climbed into bed with him. The nurses knew that the term "visiting hours" didn't apply to me. When he was sleeping, I heard him say Mari very softly.

The funny thing about that was that I hadn't told him about his nickname for me. I guess it just came to him on it's own.


	3. An Afternoon of Mean Girls

Fitz drove from his house to Marisol's. Lately he hasn't been doing much. Either he's at work, or at the Ravine relaxing. Clare hasn't talked to him much since last week, but he wasn't going to be a clingy guy so he shrugged it off. When he pulled up to Mari's, an image of her hurt and broken flashed before his eyes. He shook his head, and walked inside. "Mari, your second favorite man in the world is here." he smirked.

"Second favorite? You're my first." Marisol said, grinning. She hugged Fitz. He hadn't seen her since she'd been out of the hospital, and she still looked pretty gruesome. She led him into the kitchen, since Paddy was sleeping on the couch. "Do you need anything? A drink? Food?" she asked, rifling through the fridge. His eyebrows raised, as he followed her into the kitchen.

"First favorite? I outrank Cook now..." Fitz shook his head with a teasing look in his eye. "I like that idea. Um, a coke?" He asked. She tossed him one, and then he opened it. "You're looking better Mar. I mean it." he said softly looking in her eyes.

"I'd say that Cook is only slightly under you." She said, sitting down across the table from him. "And thank you. I'm feeling better too." She wondered what kind of person she looked like in his eyes, for a moment. Was it a pathetic one? A sad one? The only people she'd been around recently were too kind to tell her if she was a mess or not. "Did you hear that Jace was back?" She said without any emotion. An angry look entered Fitz's eyes at Jace's name.

"I heard. He was talking to Bianca... I wasn't too happy. If he goes near either of you, he won't be coming back.. again." Fitz meant that, he was tired of this kid. After he hurt Mari, and started talking to Bee, Fitz was even more pissed off. His hands clenched into fists, thinking about Jace. He relaxed as he felt Mari touch his hand, his look softened. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay. I don't like him talking to Bianca either. Or Ashleigh, or Julietta. This entire situation is a mess. I hate it." Marisol said, squeezing his hand as she laid her head down on the table. She was still a wreck. She tried not to let it show, but she was. She tried to be strong, but she wasn't. And oddly enough, it was fooling everybody. Except Fitz. He frowned a little. "Me too Mar. He doesn't know about you, does he?" Fitz quietly asked. She looked exhausted, but not sleepy. Mental exhaustion. He took another sip from his drink, before standing up and walking over to her seat. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her up gently and held her. "You don't have to be strong in front of me Mari." he whispered in her ear.

"He doesn't know. He asked, but he doesn't know." Marisol said, looking up at him. She didn't know what to do anymore. Cook didn't know, and it seemed as if all of her friends were against her with what she was choosing. It was really hard to wrap her mind around, the fact that she had a little person inside of her. Fitz came to her and held her. "I can't help it. I'm in defense mode all the time. I have to be."

"What I told you still stands Mar…about the baby." he said quietly lifting her chin up to look at him. "Loosen up that defense mode. You can be vulnerable with me… I am with you." His last words trailed off quietly as their brown eyes gazed at each other. Marisol nodded.

"I've been raised that way sense I was six. There was never a time when I was allowed to be vulnerable. I can't bring down this huge-ass wall. It's not possible for me. I'm scared every day of my life, and now, even more so." She explained. She was a miserable human being.

He nodded understandingly. "I know… Maybe little by little, that wall will come down for me." Fitz gave her a tiny half grin. He pulled away, looking at her. His fingers ran through his hair, as he breathed out. Being that close was just... He didn't exactly know.

"I hope so. I don't like being like this all the time." She said, grinning a bit herself as he did. She had missed being that close to someone. That friendship. Only, in some way, it felt like more than that. It was an odd feeling. It wasn't one she recognized, but it wasn't unpleasant.

He smiled glancing sideways at her as he walked back over to his chair. Fitz grabbed his Coke and finished it. Absentmindedly biting his lip, he put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall. "What do you want to do now Mari?"

"Anything. I really don't mind. As long as other people don't have to see me." She said. She'd been getting a lot of stares when she was in public, which was understandable, considering. "And of course, we have to stay here, since Paddy's here. He's too young to look after himself." He nodded. "Wanna watch some TV then?" Fitz didn't wait for an answer, as he turned out of the kitchen. He pretty much had a lay of the house from when Jace was there. She followed him, and for some odd reason that made him happy.

"I just really want to watch Mean Girls, okay?" She exclaimed, wanting to change the subject desperately. Fitz started for the living room. "Oh, not in there. Paddy, remember?" Marisol said. She led Fitz down the hall to her room. It was oddly right, tugging him along.

Fitz was nervous as she grabbed his hand leading him to her room. Them, a movie, and her room? It was nothing. He tried shaking it out of his mind. They entered her room. It was different from Clare's, more preppy. It made him smirk a little. "Mean girls?" His raised his eyebrows.

"You can't tell me that you've never seen that movie. No matter who you are, you're going to laugh at something in it." Marisol said, popping it into the DVD player. She went over to the bed and hopped on, patting the space next to her. Fitz looked hesitant. "What? Afraid of my purple comforter?" she laughed. He shook his head as he sat next to her. "Never seen it. And hell no… purple isn't scary." Fitz laughed glancing at her. Even though she was covered in bruises, she was still very pretty. He leaned back onto the bed, folding his arms behind his head. "You owe me. I'm watching a chickflick with you."

"Oh whatever, Mean Girls is not a chick flick. I know completely straight men who have quoted this movie." Marisol said, resting her head on his arm. She was so glad she didn't feel the constant pressure around him. When she was with Cook, she always felt like she could say one wrong thing, and then he'd be gone, but with Fitz, it was somehow different.

He bit his lip as she leaned on him. He felt a rush, and he didn't understand. Fitz leaned into her touch, smiling to himself. "If you say so, Mari... I'll try to enjoy the torture, but you still owe me." he laughed teasingly poked her side lightly.

"Oh, how will I ever repay you for watching a movie with me?" She said teasingly, batting her eyelashes at him. She laughed and turned her head back to the screen. His breathing was a bit off, which was weird. She made him nervous. Why was he feeling like this?

"Figure it out, Lewis." Fitz smirked lightly watching the movie. "This isn't so bad... It's kinda funny." he said laughing at a joke the characters just said. He let his arm slide down around her, not bothering to try to cover his move.

"I told you that it was!" Damien had just explained why Gretchen Weiners' hair was so big when Fitz put an arm around her. "Fitzgerald! What are you doing?" Marisol said, shocked. She found it funny that he was putting the moves on her. Sweet, but still funny. He had a girlfriend, and she had a boyfriend. He had respect for her boyfriend. What was happening? Rolling his eyes, he looked at her.

"What's it look like? I'm putting my arm around you." Fitz didn't think it was that big of a deal. It was like a side hug that went on forever. His eyebrows raised at the look she was giving him so he pulled his arm back turning his attention back to the TV.

Suddenly, she wanted that arm back around her. It felt almost like rejection, him taking it back. She looked at the TV feeling slightly hurt, although she had no right to be. It was ridiculous that she was. She hesitated for a moment, and then lifted his arm back around her.

He smirked at her. "Whoa. Marisol Lewis, what do you think you're doing?" Fitz laughing as his hand rested comfortably on her. He wasn't going to show it, but he was really happy she moved his arm back.

"Oh, shut up!" Marisol exclaimed, slapping his side. She laughed, and for the first time in a while it felt like a real one. Not even Cook had been able to truly make her laugh since before the… incident. She was happy. For the moment at least.

"Ouch!" he said pretending to be hurt. His fingers gently slid across her waist in a playful manner. Fitz looked down at her with his brown eyes, watching her as she laughed at the movie. He could tell it was a real laugh, and that relaxed him.

_Why does this feel right? Why am I getting chills? _Marisol asked herself. Her every nerve ending was a live wire from one simple touch. Even Cook had never accomplished that. Just that one hand on her waist. She couldn't comprehend this odd magnetism she felt towards him, but she would never let it show.

Fitz turned his attention back to the movie. The girls were doing the Santa skit, and he smirked shaking his head. "You could do that..." he smiled avoiding her eyes teasingly.

"Ugh, don't be ridiculous. I would never wear that much pleather." Marisol explained, gesturing to the costumes. "Besides, it's no where near Christmas." She looked up at Fitz. He was grinning from ear to ear. "You're insane. You know that?" Lightly he tickled her side with one hand. Leaning closer, Fitz smirked. "But you like me that way." His eyes twinkled a little, as he looked down at her.

"You're right. Only a lunatic would come to protect me from a lunatic." Marisol said. She squirmed as he tickled her. "Stop!" she giggled. "Quit it!"

_Yeah crazy for you. _Fitz thought to himself. He smiled as he rested his hand gently on her hip again. "Geez, someone's ticklish." he laughed as his head turned to the TV again. Fitz was grinning to himself.

"Leave me alone! Most girls are ticklish." Marisol said, mocking defense. She liked having him there. She shouldn't but she did. No one could ever find out. Ever. It would kill Cook if he knew she could have feelings for someone else, even if she was still a bit confused as to exactly what they were.

Smiling he shook his head. "I like that you are." Fitz laughed at something they said on the movie. He liked how close she was, but he didn't know exactly what to feel about this. He loved Clare, even if things with them were sort of rough right now.

"I can't stand being ticklish. It is my only weakness." She explained. They were coming close to the end of the movie. She chuckled at how many people had been victimized by Regina George. It was so strange for her to feel this comfortable with someone again. It hadn't been like this with Cook. _But why am I comparing the two relationships? We're just friends_. She thought to herself, furrowing her brow.

Fitz saw her face scrunch up, so he pulled away a little just to get a better look at her. "Is everything okay?" he asked softly holding her waist tightly.

"Um, yeah. Everything's fine. I just- I need a minute." Marisol said, getting up and walking quickly to the bathroom. She walked over to the sink and splashed some cold water on her face. She stared down the drain. "What are you thinking?" she said to herself, out loud. "You have a good thing going! Don't fuck it up with feelings!" She scolded quietly.

Fitz sat up and put his feet on the ground. He needed to get whatever was going on in his head straight. He lifted his head staring out the window. "Shake it off man. It's just Mari." he mumbled out loud. "Stop thinking the way you are."

Marisol exhaled through her mouth, and walked back out into her room. "Sorry, had to use the bathroom." She said, covering. She forced herself to sit considerably less close to Fitz on the bed. Not that she didn't want to be right back were she was before, but it just wouldn't be right. Fitz swallowed the lump in his throat. Standing up, he saw the movie came to its end. Looking at her, Fitz said softly, "Maybe.. I should go." He hated to do this to her, to push her away. Marisol didn't want him to leave, even though it was probably for the best.

"Oh, you don't… have to. Unless you have something to do, obviously you should go in that case, but otherwise you can stay if you want, and I'm rambling again! Damn it!" Turning to her, his crooked smile showed a little. "I don't have anything to do.." Fitz mumbled.

"Then stay. And please, keep me from rambling. It's embarrassing." Marisol said, grabbing his hand. Fitz looked down at their hands.

"I can't keep you from rambling." he said. Well he could, but he couldn't do that.

"I only start rambling when I'm nervous. That's my tell." Marisol said, letting go of his hands and wiping hers on the legs of her pants.

"Why are you nervous Mari?" he asked curiously.

"Um… I'm not comfortable with disclosing this information." Marisol said curtly.

Rolling his eyes, he stepped close to her. "Why not?"Marisol hesitated. "Fitz, this isn't funny."He casually rubbed his lip. "Fine.." Fitz stepped back, still curious to why she was acting like this. Marisol was freaking out on the inside. Why was he playing with her like that? "Damn it!" She said, and sat down at the foot of her bed. Fitz was done being in the dark.

"What the fuck is going on?" he said getting a little pissy. Not at her, just in general.

"I don't even know! Don't get angry with me." She said, looking back up at him. She couldn't tell what was going through his brain. He sat down next to her.

"I'm not angry with you. I just don't get what you're hiding from me."

"And like it's not the exact same way for you?" She said, turning toward him. "I don't understand all these signals your sending me!"

Backing off he gazed at her. "Like you aren't sending any back!" He stood up, his mouth open, just plain surprised. "Okay. I like you a lot more than I planned to. Happy?"She hadn't actually expected him to say it. She just sat there, mouth half open in shock. What could she say? There wasn't a good way to put what she was feeling. He stared at her as she sat there speechless. "I'm sorry." Fitz muttered, leaving the room and going down the steps. He couldn't stay. If he did, and it turned out well… he knew they'd both cheat on who they were with. If it didn't go well, it would just be awkward.

Marisol didn't have any choice but to let him walk away. In the end, it would be better for both of them, at least until they were both out of their relationships. Not that Marisol wanted to be out of hers, because she loved Cook with all of her heart, but… she couldn't shake this feeling.


	4. Be My Saving Grace

Cook quickly jumped off of the couch and got Paddy since he was home for once. The two of them hopped into the car, and drove over to Marisol's place. It didn't take long since he was a pretty reckless driver to begin with. They got there and Paddy lead the way, being first through the door. Marisol was scared of her own house. It wasn't a good feeling. She missed Cook, and she didn't want to have to deal with being alone on her first night home, so she was really happy to have him, even if she still looked rough around the edges. She waited in the living room. She heard several quick raps on the door, and went quickly to answer it. It was Paddy, unfortunately, and she didn't want him to see her like this, so she turned her face away as she opened up the door to let them in. "Maaaaarisol!" Paddy called out and hugged her legs. "I missed you! I missed Cook, too, I've been with Spinner! I love him! Where is the dog?" And with that he left, taking off to somewhere else. Cook walked in and stood against the doorframe. "Hey." Marisol watched Paddy streak by and Norrington barked. "Hey." Cook said, and Marisol looked up at him. He hadn't seen her yet, and she was dreading his reaction. It had been bad with Taylor, and Fitz already knew what she looked like, since he was the one who'd brought her to the hospital. Marisol closed the door. Cook smiled and walked over to her as he shut the door behind him. "I missed you." He nodded and softly kissed her cheek. "How are you?" "I missed you too." She whispered, tugging him into the living room. She pulled him to the couch, sat him down, climbed into his lap and wrapped her arms around his torso. She didn't want to talk at that moment, all she wanted was to know that he was there and that she was okay- for the moment, anyway. Cook sat down like she had made him do, then put his arms around her. He didn't talk or anything, he just sat there and held onto her. After a little while, she felt like she could talk. "I was so worried. I still am. I don't want you in trouble. And I think this house is too big." "I'm fine, don't worry." He nodded and looked down at her a little confused. "Too big for what?" "It's too big for comfort. I need a roommate or something. And I'm supposed to worry. That's what I do, and I do it well." Marisol explained. "Come stay with me." He nodded. "Well, with us. Paddy and I." Marisol was dumbfounded. "Really? You mean it?" She smiled her half-formed smile and pressed her forehead against him. "I would have said it if I didn't mean it." He nodded and smiled at her. Marisol was glad that he would have her. She was sort of excited to be playing house, what with Paddy. They were becoming sort of like a little family.

"I love you." Marisol said, meaning it more than she ever had before. Cook nodded and kissed her softly. "I love you, too." It had taken him awhile to say it, but he finally did. And he meant it. Marisol smiled, loving the feeling she got when those three little words were directed to her. "I'm so happy. You have no idea." "I know." He smiled. "Now, you need to sleep. Even if it is right here on my lap. I'll be here when you wake up, I won't move." "I'm content with that." Marisol said, nuzzling into his neck. "Thank you. For everything." "You're welcome." He nodded. "Now sleep, you need it." He yawned. "And apparently I do, too."Marisol was almost asleep. But then she remembered. "I need to tell you something. But it can wait until tomorrow." "Okay, Mar. Sleep now." As she drifted off, Cook whispered another small, sweet "I love you" into her ear. He wished for her to have sweet dreams.


	5. A Visit From Taylor

Taylor rode to the hospital in silence. When she arrived she parked and ran into the hospital. "Marisol Lewis?" She said to the nurse at the front desk. The nurse sweetly told her the room number and Taylor thanked her. As she walked into Marisol's room, she was scared to look at her. She couldn't stand seeing Marisol hurt, it would cause her to cry or even worse enraged at Jace.

Marisol knew that she was a sight. She hadn't seen herself, but she could feel the stitches, the puffiness in her face, around her eyes and lips. She hated it, and she was thankful that Cook hadn't come to see her yet. She felt like she'd been hit with a brick in her lower abdomen and her head. "Taylor." She said, beckoning her forward. Taylor came to her bed.

Taylor sat down on Marisol's hospital bed lightly not wanting to move anything. "How are you feeling?" She said still not looking at Marisol.

"I feel like someone put butter in a sock and hit me with it." Marisol explained. Taylor wouldn't look at her. "Is it really that bad?"

Taylor looked at her out of the corner of her eye. "No, its not that bad." She whispered.

"Tay, I need you to look at me. I need you to not beat around the bush, or walk on eggshells for my benefit. Just look at me. That's all I'm asking."

Taylor looked over her shoulder as a tear rolled down her cheek "I c-can't… I need a minute." Taylor walked outside to get over the site.

_Shit, it has to be bad. _Marisol thought, covering her face. If it was as bad as the rest of her felt, no one else would be visiting her for a while.

Taylor walked outside the room as tears flow down her face against her own will. She wanted to go back in there, but it was to hard to see Marisol in pain. And she didn't want to cry in front of her. She didn't even want to be crying now but she couldn't help it.

Marisol waited for Taylor to come back in. She hated that her best friend couldn't even look her in the eye. Fitz, yeah, he could, because he was tough like that and he'd seen worse, probably. But she couldn't take it from Taylor. A quote from a movie popped into her head. "I can take 'the sky is falling', but not from you."

Taylor wiped away a tear and began to walk in. She hoped and prayed that she wouldn't cry in front of Marisol. She hated being weak. She sat down on the bed again and smiled weakly at Marisol.

"I can deal with anyone else doing that, but when it comes from you, it breaks my heart." Marisol said, not portraying any emotion. "I feel like I'm losing my mind. I can't sort up from down right now. I need you to be strong. I have never asked anything of you, but this is the one thing I need. Especially right now."

Taylor was quiet for a moment. She looked out the window for that moment of silence. "That's like asking me to walk on water." She said quietly. "Asking me not to be upset that someone hurt you." She said a bit angered as she looked at Marisol. " I could have stopped this from happening." She mumbled.

"It's not that I expect you not to be upset, but I'm a wreck." Marisol said. She gestured toward her body. "There's no way that you could have stopped this. Fitz couldn't, Cook couldn't, how do you think it's any different for you? There's no way it could have been any different."

Taylor looked at her for a moment. "Apparently you've never seen me in a fist fight." Taylor joked with a small laugh. "I could have at least hit him back at minimum."

"Right. Okay." Marisol smiled back.

"You don't believe me!" Taylor giggled "I'm a strong little blonde… in heels!" She said inbetween small giggles.

Marisol smiled sadly. "I'm sure."


	6. Stopping By

Fitz drove up to the hospital, getting out of his car quietly. When he went inside the nurse remembered him from yesterday, and led him to Mari's room. As he walked in he told himself to look her in her eyes and he did. "Hey Mari."

"Hey Fitz," she smiled. "Don' I just look… Sexy?" Her words were slightly slurred from her swollen lips.

Fitz wasn't one to sugarcoat anything. "Heh.. You look exactly like you did when I carried you in yesterday, just a little more swollen." he shuffled over to her side and sat in the chair next to her bed.

"Thanks for coming. So depressing here." Marisol said as Fitz sat down. "Hey, you didn'… go, las' night. Did you? With Cook I mean." She placed her hand closer to the edge of the bed. She was still worried about Cook, and if anyone knew anything, it would be Fitz.

His eyebrows furrowed. "I wanted to. But I couldn't. I promised Clare that I wouldn't get into anymore trouble, especially since I already have a huge record." Fitz stated. "I haven't heard from him either."

"Feel like 'm going crazy. Don't know where he is or if he's okay. And I don' really wan' see him, I just wan' to talk to him." Marisol said. "Thank you for offering to go, though. Means a lot to me, and 'm sure it means a lot to him 's well."

He nodded. "I really just wanted to beat the shit outta him with Cook." Fitz mumbled. "If I hear from him, I'll tell you." he said as he lightly squeezed her hand, then let go.

Marisol let a tear fall, but wiped it away quickly, fearing looking weak in Fitz's eyes. "Thank you. This been... crazy. Can' deal with it. Hate that everyone is worrying about me. 's my job."

Shaking his head, Fitz looked at her. "I'm always gonna worry about you, Mari." he whispered. "Are you crying?" he asked sadly.

"No. 'm not." She said, tears coming to quickly for Fitz to believe her. "You don' have to worry about me. 'm not your problem. 'm no ones problem."

Turning to her completely, he wiped her eyes away. "No you're not. You are, you're Marisol. I'll be damned if this ever happens to you again. I'm going to worry about you, Mari. I can't _not_ worry."

Marisol's bottom lip trembled as he spoke. Screw the nurses, it didn't matter to her that she was told not to move. It didn't matter that she was aching in places she never even knew about. She needed a hug, so she sat up, turned toward Fitz and got one.

Fitz hugged her back and just held her there for a little. "Everything's going to be okay, Mari." Gently, he helped her lay back down and he gave her a small smile.

"Hope so. This morning, m' doctor came in and asked me some standard questions. He said he needed to run some tests. Jus' hope there's nothing out of the ordinary."

He ran his hand through his hair before he spoke. "Me, too. What could be out of the ordinary?"

"Well, considering the questions he was asking?" Marisol shrugged. She didn't want to jump to any conclusions. She was sure the results would come back negative.

He looked at her curiously. "What do you mean Mari?"

"It may or may not be possible… that I'm pregnant?" She said. "I mean, probably not 'cause there's never been an instance where Cook and I didn' use protection, and been under a lot of stress recently so that could be why 'm late and 'm rambling again, please stop me."

Fitz laughed a little. "I don't mind hearing you talk… just not about you and Cook getting it on. Not the mental image I needed." He paced a little, before turning to her. "I think it's the stress.. I mean look at everything that bastard put you through."

"Sorry. Didn' mean to disturb you. But I meant about fighting with Cook and then New York, mainly. It's too soon to tell if there will be any repercussions from this." Marisol said, gesturing towards her body.

Fitz looked away. No matter how many times she told him it wasn't, he'd always feel like it's his fault she ended up in the hospital. Idly his hand rubbed his lip. "Heh... makes sense. I hope not."

"Yeah, you n' me both." Fitz still looked worried, but she knew she couldn't convince him that nothing was his fault. "Anyway, we should talk 'bout something else."

"Yeah.." he nodded absentmindedly. "Anything else. How's that girl and her kid doing?" Fitz asked.

"Gio and Calista? Haven' talked to Gio much, but she seems okay. I still can' believe that he came into _my home _while a _child_ was there."

Fitz shrugged angrily. "I can… What I can't believe is what he did to you."

"Believe me, surprised me more than it surprised you." Marisol said. "He was never like that before. Ever."

"I believe you Mari.." he said quietly still regretting.

"I just don' understand. I thought that maybe he would understand where I was coming from. Maybe he would want me to be happy. Why can' I have a normal life?"

Fitz looked away from her. "No one has a normal life and even those who seem like they do don't." he whispered.

"But why does everything have to be so messed up?" Marisol asked, having complicated the question too much for her own mind to even debate it anymore.

"I don't know… Mari… I don't know." his voice trailed off. Fitz's brown eyes gazed at her, trying to figure out what to say.

"It doesn' matter. Pretty soon, 'll be out of here, and back in my own house with my own rules and no one to bother me." Marisol shrugged, looking away from him.

"I can't wait 'til you're out of here and better." he quietly said, still looking at Mari.

"Neither can I. 'm sick of the food. They call that crap chicken? Lies. All of it."

He laughed. "When you get out, we'll get you some real food. I promise." Fitz smiled at her, sitting back down next to her.

"That sounds excellent."

He smirked a little. "I'll come again. I promise. Or text me if you get out, you know. I have to go to work." Fitz rolled his eyes, not too happy about having to leave her here alone.

"Okay. Thanks for coming by. Was good to get some of that off my chest." Marisol smiled.

"You're welcome. Love you, Mari." He leaned down and kissed her forehead, and walked out the door.


	7. July 13th

Despite Fitz's attempts to stop her, Marisol had to take the walk. She had to go down there and face him, it was her only option. She opened the bedroom door and slipped out quietly. She padded down the stairs, terrified that she was about to see Jace for the first time in three years. Why couldn't she have a normal life? A good life with both her parents alive and a younger brother who plays every sport, and a drama free existence? It wasn't possible. At least, not for her.

Jace saw her descend the staircase. He marveled at how she had grown. Instead of the awkward fourteen-year-old she had once been, Marisol was now a woman, one that he would consider beautiful. He grinned at her dementedly.

"Do not_ fucking _grin at me." Marisol said, slamming her hand down on the table. "You come into my life and try and ruin everything, and then you come into my home while there is a _child _in it, trying to get confrontational? That's _not_ okay with me. You have issues."

"If you would have talked to me sooner, we wouldn't have this problem. I want you to come back to New York with me. We could be happy again, don't you think?" He asked, but Marisol shook her head. "In that case, if I can't have you, no one else can." Jace said, dropping his grin. He came across the table.

Marisol shrieked and attempted to run from him. She managed to get away for only a moment before he tackled her. She knocked her head against the wall, and couldn't remember anything after that.

It had been quiet for far too long. Fitz opened the door, cupping his ear for any sound, and then flew down the stairs. He scanned the room frantically for Marisol, finding her on the floor.

"What did he do to?" Fitz growled angrily at the thought of Jace.

Marisol lie in the floor. She was beyond the pain. She felt close to death, really. She saw Fitz and he looked angry. Why was he angry?

"We're taking you to the hospital." Fitz nodded to the other girl. "I'm gonna kill him if he shows up again Mari...I swear." Fitz whispered to her as he picked her up carrying her to the car.

Marisol felt herself being lifted up, but couldn't comprehend why. She saw her mother, and her brother, in the distance. And she wanted to go. Really she did. But she couldn't tell what was keeping her.

"Don't go." he whispered as he put her in the other girl's car. The girl sat in the back with Mari and the baby. Fitz sped to the hospital getting there in less than 10 minutes. "Come on, Mar." he said as he lifted her again carrying her into the ER. The other girl was explaining what happened to the desk lady and then they rushed her in. Fitz and the girl with her baby were in the waiting room.

Marisol was lifted onto something relatively hard, and then she felt a sharp stab in her arm. She didn't open her eyes, but she began to see something behind her eyelids.

A man, with brownish hair and green eyes. A little boy on a slide, then the same little boy with a dog with short legs. A girl with short hair and chubby cheeks, and a boy with black hair and a mean looking face. A blonde girl, with the reddest lips she'd ever seen. A girl with beautiful hair and really long legs, with a baby on her hip. A raven-haired beauty with a sad look. Then names started to form in her head. Paddy, Norrington, Clare, Fitz, Taylor, Gio and Calista and Scarlett. And Cook. James Cook, the man that she loved. And she saw Jace. Jace and his horrible face.

The good outruled the bad in this case.

Everything came flooding back to her. Fitz. Gio. She hoped that Jace hadn't done anything to them. Especially Calista.

Then she thought of Jace, and the face he made, as he…

That's when the screaming started.


	8. New York, New York

"This is the most monumentally fucked up situation, Cook. I mean, how the fuck did this happen?" Marisol exclaimed.

Cook was dead. Dead, but not gone. Marisol had just gone back to her house for the first time since she'd found out. Before it had been too painful, and it was still painful, but she was sick of living in a hotel. So when she'd gone back, she told herself that she would have to live in her bedroom and the kitchen. She couldn't venture into any other rooms, there were too many memories. She remembered sitting with Cook and his little brother, Paddy, in the living room watching a movie. And when Cook came back, he'd stayed in the spare bedroom. Cook never really left there when he got overridden with the cancer. Last June for her birthday, they'd set off fireworks in the back yard.

She wasn't expecting to have Cook standing before her when she walked in the door.

"Well, I didn't really have a choice in the matter. I couldn't do much. It's not like it was fucking Harry Potter and I got the choice on whether or not I really died or came back to life." He said, stroking the side of her face. He could touch her. It's like he was there, he was alive, but he was trapped in the house.

"Nice analogy." Marisol said. She was still stunned by the fact that he could really be here. With her. She didn't know what to do.

Just then, Marisol heard a knock at the door. She hadn't been expecting anyone, but it was probably the police, investigating something or other. Cook followed her to the door.

**Marisol flung it open. **

"Hey, Scar." Cook said.

Scarlett raised an eyebrow when she heard Cook's voice. This was fucking insane. Was he seriously there? Seeing Marisol and how stunned and… distressed she looked comforted Scarlett in knowing that she couldn't be the only one hearing his voice and… seeing him.

"Um… Hi, Cook?" she greeted with a little awkward wave. It's not every day you had the chance to wave to a dead person.

She shifted her gaze to Marisol as she stepped inside the home. "I would've brought James over, but I didn't want to wake him up," she explained with a small smile. And now seeing that Cook was still 'haunting' the place, it seemed good that she hadn't anyway. Scarlett turned around to look at Marisol and Cook, attempting to take in the whole scene between the two of them.

"So… uh… What's going on here?" Necrophiliac shit going on? she wanted to tease, but unfortunately that didn't seem too appropriate for the moment

"Well, I'm pretty sure I've got some unfinished business or some shit. I've been here for a day. I don't know the fuck's going on here. I mean, one minute I was saying good bye to you, and the next I was here. It was fucking weird, but I figured that this was my heaven, and I didn't know why Mar wasn't home. Then she came in, and I was so fucking happy." Cook smiled at Marisol.

"But I was scared out of my god damned mind." Marisol said to Scarlett bluntly.

"And now, we think I'm a ghost. But now I'm not so sure seeing as you can see me. And she can touch me. And I can touch her." Just then, Cook pinched Marisol's rear end playfully.

"COOK!" Marisol said.

"Oh, yeah. I can definitely touch her. Hey, Scar, how long do you plan on being here?" He said suggestively. Marisol rolled her eyes. She stepped to the side to make way for Scarlett.

"Come in."

Scarlett chewed on her lower lip in an attempt to stay shut up, but immediately failed when Cook pinched Marisol's ass.

Letting out a loud laugh, she shook her head and put her hands up. "I'm not planning on staying for hours on end. Just came to see Mar. And… you apparently," she said with a confused look on her face, still trying to hold in her laughter.

Scarlett walked over to her friend and pursed her lips slightly. "I was gonna ask how you were holding up with everything, but… That seems to be a little unnecessary," she concluded with a smirk, allowing her eyes to wander over to 'ghostly' Cook.

"So, how do you feel about Cook still living in your house?" she asked even though Cook was still in the room with a raised eyebrow as she walked nonchalantly over tothe living room so she could get comfortable on the couch.

"I'm… I don't know. I'm not happy, because he's still dead. I just… I'm confused." Marisol went to sit on the couch, and laid her head in her hands. Cook came to sit next to her and rubbed her back.

"She's in shock. It's common when you see dead people." Marisol whipped her hand out to his ribs. "Ow!"

"Yeah, I can still touch you, too." she said sharply. "And the weird thing is that he's not sick anymore. He's as healthy as he was the first day I met him." Marisol explained.

"Despite the fact that I was stuffing my face with a McRib." Cook said.

"Since when did you become heath conscious? YOU'RE DEAD."

Scarlett watched them intently. They were acting just as they did when they were married. Or… were they still married? Fucking hell, this was all so confusing, and she wasn't even a part of it. At least, not to her knowledge.

"Just… cherish it. You get a second chance," she attempted to tell Mar before she hit Cook's ribs. "Hey… violence is a no-no," she said, wagging a finger at Marisol, her own way of trying to lighten the mood.

"Cook, word of advice, I don't think you being the wanker you are right now is helping matters much," she told him with a sweet smile as she wrapped her arm around Marisol's shoulders in a feigned attempt to comfort the girl.

"Hey, I think I have a right to hit him." Marisol said, to Scar. "Fucking idiot! You should have never gone out in that storm! I just needed to be someplace normal for a little while. And now you're gone. Well, not really. But… Oh, I don't know!" Marisol said, leaning into Scarlett's side.

"You're right, Scar. I'm really sorry, Mar. I shouldn't have surprised you like this, but to be honest, I didn't know that this was happening. I'm being a complete twat." Cook said, running a hand through his hair.

"No, I understand why you're trying to lighten things up. This is… insane. But Scar's right, we do get a second chance to be together. But wait, does this mean that I have to die in some tragic way to be with you?" Marisol asked.

"You're rambling again." Cook said.

"Then stop me." Cook kissed her chastely, definitely not wanting to make things uncomfortable seeing as Scarlett was there.

"Hey, how's the baby?" He asked her.

Scarlett grinned when the two of them had started to talk things out, even if it was just lightly and quickly.

"Shh, it's fine," she said to Marisol, giving her a sweet kiss on the top of her head when she was leaned on.

And when the two of them began to kiss, all the girl could do was just sit there awkwardly, but also happily knowing that the two of them had managed to work things out, even in that short amount of time. But love is love is love, right? So it shouldn't matter how things were worked out. The ends justify the means, correct?

Looking up at Cook, Scarlett smiled impishly at the thought of little baby James sitting at home sleeping like an angel and Jordan watching him, making sure he was okay.

"He's good. Really good. Healthy," she answered, her smile growing with each thought of her little baby boy that ran through her head.

"Would you still have named him after me if you'd known I'd be back?" Cook asked Scarlett. Secretly, Marisol wondered if Scarlett would bring James here, or Jordan, or Juliet, to see Cook again. She wondered if she should tell anyone. Or should she keep him all to herself. He was back after all. Strong and healthy, and… sexy. Just like he'd always been before. But Marisol turned her thoughts away from that.

"I'm so glad. I still haven't seen this kid! But I wouldn't want you to wake him up. You never wake a sleeping baby. They're like lions."

Scarlett looked up at Cook and nodded in response. "'Course. You're my Cookie Monster," she answered with a grin, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

Holy shit, she really could touch him. It felt nice. She thought she'd never have that chance again, yet here she was. He felt just as she remembered him. He felt like… Cook. She'd missed that, and he'd only been away from her for a day or two. But that's a few days too long in her opinion.

"Exactly! So I just told Jordan I was going out and that he needed to watch James," she agreed with a little laugh and shake of her head. "Juliet is out with friends, so hopefully Jordan can handle the baby by himself."

Cook smiled at her, remembering for a moment that he had loved her once, and that he still loved her deep down. He stood up from the couch.

"Well, I don't think that's the greatest idea. I wouldn't trust him with a baby." Cook said to her.

"I wouldn't trust you with a baby." Marisol told him playfully, looking up at him and hanging her fingers from his. She looked over at Scarlett. "If you had to leave, I wouldn't be upset. I think I'll… we'll be okay now."

In reality, all Marisol wanted Scarlett to get out of her house so that she and Cook could talk. She hadn't really said much because she'd been too stunned, but they needed to figure something out.

Scarlett let out a small laugh and shook her head in disappointment. "It looks like you two will be just fine," she said with an honest smile.

She always knew they would be fine. Deep down. I mean, Cook had left Scarlett for Mar, that had never happened to the girl before. Being left for someone else. It was usually the other way around. So they would be okay. It was obvious.

"Nah, I think I'll get going. Let you guys… talk and whatnot," she teased. She knew their talking would end up leading to ghostly sex, if that was even possible in their case, but whatever.

Standing up from the couch, Scarlett leaned down to give Marisol a quick hug, as well as Cook. "It was nice to see you both. Especially you, Cookie."

"Always a pleasure, babes." Cook told her, hugging her for the first time in what felt like forever. Marisol stood up to walk Scarlett to the door, glad that she'd come.

"Listen, I'm sorry for being a total bitch the other day. I didn't mean anything by it, okay? I was just upset. I love you, Scar. And Jordan, too. I appreciate everything you've done for me. Thank you." She clutched at her closest friend and kissed her cheek kindly.

Pulling away from both the hugs, Scarlett began to make her way to the door, but not before replying to Marisol's apology.

"It's okay, babes. Shit was going down. It's understandable," she insisted with a genuine smile gracing her lips, making sure to return the hug she had received from her friend.

"Now, you two have funnnn," she insured in a sing-songy voice as she waved with four of her fingers in a twinkly-type way, as a mischievous smirk replaced her innocent smile.


	9. An Airport Reunion, and Then a Goodbye

Cook had woken up and noticed that Gio had already gone home so he opened his laptop and logged into Tumblr. Then he saw the post. Just got a call from my producer, they want me to come in for the weekend, so I'm leaving early. Like, in an hour early. Packing everything I own at the moment, no time to be picky. Bye guys, I'll see you when school lets back in. Cook shook his head not wanting to believe it. He knew what he had to do now, even though it went against everything he knew. Not caring what he looked like he quickly grabbed his keys and hopped in the car. He was only wearing his pajama pants and a pair of Spiderman socks. He had his major bedhead going on and no shirt, not that he cared. He just started driving.

Marisol was happy to be going. As happy as she was capable of being at the moment. She'd called her dad, and while she packed she heard him ridiculing her appartment's cleanliness and decorative choices. "This is ugly. Do you ever do the dishes? why is this table placed so inconveniently?" She needed to leave. to get away from everyone who knew her- knows her, and she needed to focus. Get her head back in order, and put her priorities on her career. She finished packing her suitcase, and grabbed a toteback, filling it with a couple of books for the flight. she made sure she had all devices she would need, and then walked out to the living room. She motioned to the door with her head, and her father picked up Norrington, growling. He had an awfully good sense of character. Her dad dropped her off at the airport, not bothering to help her with her bags. She waved goodbye and started toward check in.

It was a wonder how Cook had even got into the airport looking the way he did, but he'd managed it somehow. Cook looked around throughout the flight gates looking for the New York one, then he saw her. He wasn't sure exactly what to say so he just went with his gut feeling. He walked over to her and took her hand as she started to turn. Marisol turned toward him, her jaw hanging slack. "Don't say anything, just listen to me." He started. "I didn't mean to get mad, or run or anything like that. I'm just a fuck up, you've got to believe me. I wasn't trying to hurt you. I just can't do relationships well. But I could try… For you.." He looked down. "And obviously I like you, otherwise I wouldn't of show up like... this.."

Marisol was shocked at the fact he'd actually shown up at the airport. The hard-headed side of her didn't want to listen, but even in her wrecked state, she was so happy to see him. Once he finished talking, Marisol let the tears fall. She kissed him, and she noticed people were clapping. "I'm so sorry, I just couldn't have kept this up without knowing how you really felt. And I know you may think that it's too much, but…" Marisol looked down, and hesitated for a moment. Only a moment. "I fucking love you, you idiot. Is that enough?"

Cook nodded and leaned down to kiss her, as he linked his arms around her waist. He then picked her up. "Yeah, it's enough." He nodded, not caring about the other people around, or his looks for that matter. "It's enough to keep me around."

"Good. In that case- as long as I can help it- there's no way in hell that you're leaving." She hugged him tightly around the neck as he swung her around. when he set her down, they went over to the benches. "I really wish I wasn't leaving right now. I'm gonna be so sad without you there."

"How long is it?" He asked, already knowing that he didn't want know the answer. But he was also already hatching ideas in his head to visit. "It won't take forever at least, only a little bit of time."

"But until August? I don't want to leave you now, especially when we just made up. Oh, and, um, would you be willing to go get Norrington? I have a feeling he really doesn't like my dad." she said, kind of scared for Cook. "And if you do, it might be a good idea to put on a shirt."

"Uh, sure." He nodded. "I guess I can do that, if you want me too. Where's Taylor? I thought she was moving up here with you?" He looked around in case he had missed her. "And don't worry about it, I'll still be here in August."

"I'd really appreciate that. My dad… Just be careful okay? And no, in a moment of complete and utter depression, I told her that I needed to do this alone, and anyways, she needed time to build herself back up." Marisol said. "I'll still miss you terribly."

"I'll be fine." He nodded. "Don't worry." Cook shook his head and leaned over and kissed her.

"I know, it's just that my dad can be a scary guy. I've seen bigger men than you run away with their tails between their legs." She said, clutching his hand.

"I'm not concerned about him." Cook shrugged and looked at their hands. "And stop it. I'm not going anywhere. You have a webcam, I have a webcam. It'll all be fine. Just don't fall for any other guys down there."

"Don't even think that way. It's not possible." Marisol scoffed.

"Okay." He nodded and looked at the clock. "When do you leave?"

"My flight leaves at 2:20. I had to be here an hour before hand for check in." Marisol said. "How is this gonna work, James?"

"First of all. You're not gonna call me James." He looked at her, seriously.

"Well, everyone calls you Cook. What am I supposed to call you?" Marisol pouted.

"You call me Cook. Or be like Gio and come up with something different." Cook told her simply.

"Ugh, fine. I still don't think it's fair, since I'm your…" Marisol caught herself. "Never mind."

"Second of all. I have no idea. I'm shit with relationships, even when the girl only lives a a few blocks away.." Cook said.

"How about this? We can skype, call and text, and you promise to come and see me for at least a week?" Marisol asked hopefully.

He shrugged. "I think I can handle doing that for you."

and good. Obviously you'll have to bring Paddy."

"'Course I'll bring him, Mar." Cook smiled.

"Okay, well I have to leave." Marisol said regrettably. She embraced him one last time, long and tight.

"I'll see you in a couple weeks, okay?" She said, backing away from him and toward the gate.

"I'll see you soon. Girlfriend."


	10. Back Massage

Marisol attempted to figure out what she would need. She couldn't assume Cook had anything at his place, so she grabbed her own body oil and some candles, locked Norrington in his cage and headed out the door. She ran to her car, excited at the opportunity to show Cook one of her few skills. She had been told before that she should consider becoming a massage therapist. She pulled out of her driveway and was at his place within minutes. She knocked on the front door, which seemed kinda pointless but she wanted to be polite.

Cook walked to the door and opened it. Paddy was gone, so it was only them now. "Hey." He nodded and let her in. "You really don't need to knock, you're here enough to just start walking in."

"Well, I figured it was the polite thing to do. Thanks though. I'll just start waltzing in from now on. So where exactly are we doing this? And where's Paddy?" Marisol had noticed that when she was over, he always seemed to be gone, which wasn't always a bad thing, but she did wonder about it.

"Paddy made a friend, and he's with him for the night." Cook explained. "Uh, I don't care, my back is just killing me, in here? My bed? The floor?"

"Bed, definitely bed." Marisol said, and he lead her to his bedroom. She hadn't been in it before, and wasn't surprised by the slight mess. "Well, I'm glad that he has a friend. Especially right now."

Cook quickly grabbed his shirts that were on the floor, and threw them into a basket. His bed was made though, that didn't happen often. "Why now? What's so special about today?" He looked over at her, then lifted his shirt off and dropped it to his floor.

Marisol smiled. "Oh, there's nothing special about today, it's just that I'm really glad that he's not here right now." She said seductively, pushing him down on the bed playfully. He rolled over as Marisol lit some of the candles, all in different scents meant for relaxation. Marisol took off her shoes and hopped up on the bed, placing her knees on either side of his hips, and squeezing some of the oil onto his back.

Cook moved a pillow up and rested his head on it. "You are pretty good at this." He laughed and started to relax. "You've still got me interested in why you don't want Paddy around." He smirked.

"Thank you. Oh, you're a smart boy, Cookie, it's definitely not hard to figure out. And you know what I realized? It's been exactly a week since we met."

"Are you expecting something as a gift?" He laughed. "I didn't buy you anything, darlin."

"No, I;m not expecting anything! This isn't like an anniversary or something. It's just that I haven't seen you since Monday, and that's way too long for my liking." Marisol said, planting a kiss on the back of his neck.

Cook smirked and turned his head to the side, and kissed her. "Monday yeah? I've just been busy. Running around with Paddy and things."

"I understand, I'm getting ready for my trip to New York. That's for two weeks. I guess we'll just have to make up for it, won't we?" She said. She continued to work her hands up and down his spine.

"We will." He nodded in agreement. "You might just have to take your laptop with and Sykpe me, just in case you know I might start to miss you."

Marisol froze for a second. "What is this? Cook? Actually admitting that he may miss someone? And this someone may be me? Okay, never mind, I'm not gonna push it. And I kind of have to take my laptop for my internship. So that can definitely happen."

"Alright." Cook nodded and just laid there. "You are like, really really good at this. I don't really want to stop."

"Thanks again. I've been told that I have magical hands. And I'll have to eventually, if you ever want the real fun to begin." She said, not stopping. Marisol enjoyed just sitting there, working her hands up and down his wide back.

Cook laughed. "I may pass on the real fun, if this will happen all night." He smirked, half joking, just trying to get a reaction out of her.

"Hmm, decisions, decisions. But, looks like you're going to be disappointed." Marisol said, though continuing to work his back.

"Whys that?" He asked.

"Because there is no way that I am going one more night without you." Marisol said, not wanting to sound too disgusting.

"Oh?" He chuckled. "Missed me that much, yeah?"

"Yeah, oddly enough I did." She said, scratching him a bit.

Cook curved his back, when she scratched. "Damn."

Marisol smiled and bit her tongue, scratching him a little harder. "Masochism. It's sexy." Cook groaned a little and turned his head to try and see his back.

"What, worried I did some damage? You're fine." She said, and kissed one of the scratches.

"Better not damage me." He smirked.

"Oh, I'm much more worried about me." Marisol said. She started to kiss up his spine. Cook shivered slightly.

"Yeah, I figured." She said. Cook turned over and kissed her, as he brought her back down to lay on him. Marisol yelped slightly a the sudden movement, but then she was on top of Cook. She knew he couldn't resist her.

"Now what was this about making it a good night?"

"Oh, let's see, you ravaging me in every way possible. That's a start."

"I can do that." Cook smirked and kissed her hard, while starting to rid of all clothing.


	11. Afterparty

Marisol walked outside, and with Cook's help, picked up an unconscious Taylor and carrying her to the other spare room. Once they deposited her, they walked back into the living room and plopped on the couch. "Well, that was eventful."

"How many times did I get hit in the head?" He shook his head and picked up the Twister game, putting it back into the box.

"Just once, unless you count the time that I kicked you in the head during Twister." Marisol stood back up and started picking up the various cups and remains of the evening.

"Well it hurts." He laughed and put the game away, then sat back on the couch with the blanket he had before.

"I'm sorry. Do you want a drink while I'm up?"

"Sure, thanks. I don't care what."

Marisol picks up the good whiskey, and carries it over to the couch, shoots it straight, and then passes it to him. she sits and covers up as well.

Cook took the bottle and took a long drink. "Your house is kind of cold when you're half naked." He laughed.

"Agreed. Hey aren't you impressed with my liquor holding abilities? Most girls can't take a shot of that without coughing their heads off." Marisol said, snuggling into Cook. "So…"

"Oh yeah, I'm impressed." He laughed and shook his head. "So…what?"

"So what do we have going on here Cookie? I'm not asking for a label, I just… don't understand this."

"We." He motioned to the little space between them, "Are sitting on a couch, looking at a mess room, that's all."

"Something about this, it's… That kiss, though. It's almost like I didn't want to feel it. But you made me. I don't know what you made me feel, but you did. I haven't felt anything in… a long time."

Cook shrugged and sat back. "You wanted to kiss me, and wouldn't make the first move. So I made it easier for you."

"So that's all it was? You were just making it easier for me? You don't have to lie to me, if you didn't want to kiss me too, you wouldn't have done it twice."

"I didnt?" He looked confused. "I only kissed you in the hallway."

"Oh, you tit! At your place, on Thursday. You told Scarlett and you thought you were going to get beat, and I was being a bumbling fucking idiot."

"Oh!" he shook his head/ "I forgot."

Marisol rolled her eyes. "You would. It wasn't a particularly memorable kiss, enenthoughitwasprobablythebe stkissI'veeverhadandall."

Cook had been taking a drink at the time and then spit it out.

"What?! Why did you spit out your drink? Oh, god I went and said something stupid again didn't I? Ugh, I'm being a Patrick again, here we go."

Cook wasn't really sure how to respond, or even how to change the topic from that.

"Cook!" Marisol yelled. "Speak! Please?"

"Sorry, sorry. I just don't really know what to say."

"Why the fuck don't you know what to say? What's weird or awkward or bad about it?"

"I wasn't ready for you to say that.."

"What? That it was the best kiss I've ever had? Yeah, it was. And before you came along, I didn't know where the fuck my life was going. I didn't know what I wanted, or what the fuck I was doing, and you know what? I still don't, but at least now I have something I can look forward to everyday, and that something is you. If I have to say it a thousand fucking times to get it through you, I will. It was the best fucking kiss I have ever had."

"Damn." He sat back on the couch and rubbed the back of his neck. "Alright, then." He nodded, processing it all.

"And that's all you have to say. Great." Marisol started to walk away, but the she turned back around, walked right up to him again, and kissed him with just as much fiery passion as she had spoken with before.

Cook wasn't expecting that, but he kissed her back with just as much as she had put into it.

After a minute, she pulled back, not removing her hands from Cook's face. "Do you get it now?"

Cook nodded and looked up at her. "Uh, y-yeah. I get it now."

Marisol threw her hands in the air. "Thank you!" She yelled. "I'm kind of proud of myself. I made Cook stammer. Never thought it could happen."

"Is that like a prize or something?" He asked and chuckled a little bit. "I'll be right back." He moved her hands, then stood up and went to check on Paddy.

It kind of was a prize, in a way. She felt like she had won him. Not completely, but like things could actually turn out right. Cook came back in.

Cook walked back in and sat down, then picked up his shirt and put it on. "I'm cold."

"There's a blanket here for a reason. That's not fair, I have no pants on."

Cook moved over and pulled the blanket down, then put it over the both of them.

"It kind of is a prize for me, by the way. Did Scarlett ever leave you stammering?"

"Yeah." He nodded, being honest.

"Oh, well. She was your girlfriend. I still feel accomplished." Marisol leaned her head on his shoulder. "This is so weird. I met you, like, four days ago, and I already feel like I know everything about you. Obviously, I don't, but it feels like I've known you my whole life."

"I'm not a complicated person." He nodded and sunk down a little more on the couch. "It's nice actually having someone who doesn't hate me."

"I think you really are a complicated person. I think that while you don't give a fuck about rules, you have your own set that you follow. And to be blatantly honest. I don don't think I could hate you if I tried. You're a wonderful person Cook. More compassionate than people think you are."

Cook shrugged. "You're just over-anyalizing me. I'm really nothing special, a fuck up that doesn't give a fuck either."

"While I do tend to over-analyze things, I know that I was right about that last. And you're not a fuck up. Yeah, you've fucked up, but you pretty much make up for that in humor and sex appeal. You don't have to give a fuck, but that doesn't always have to mean that you don't."

Cook nodded. "This is getting too Dr. Phil for me." He shook his head then looked at the hallways and saw Paddy standing there, looking a little frightened.

"I got it, Cook." Marisol said, stealing the blanket, wrapping it around herself and walking down the hall. "What is it pet?" She asked Paddy. "I had a nightmare. That mean men came after Cook and me. They got him and took him away and I had to go back and live with mum." He told her. She smiled her sad smile at him, and ushered him back into the bedroom. He got back into bed and she sat down and tucked him in really tight. "Listen Paddy, no one is ever going to take Cook away from you. I promise with everything that I have. And you know what? I never break a promise." Paddy nodded at me. "I like you." He said, "And I think Cook does too." Marisol nodded. "Thank you, Paddy. Good night, love." Marisol said, kissing his forehead and walking back into the living room.

Cook was sitting back on the couch, trying to regain the warmth since she took the blanket. Then he looked at her standing there. "Come back and keep me warm!" He chuckled. "Is Paddy okay? Do I need to go in there?"

"Oh, he's fine. He had a nightmare about mean men coming to take you away and having to live with your mom." Marisol went over and sat back down, snuggling close to him. "He told me he likes me." She said, and she felt Cook nod. "He also said that he thought you liked me as well."

"He had that one again? Poor kid." Cook shook his head and pulled the blanket up more. "Yeah, you're a cool chick." He laughed.

Marisol had hoped for a bit more than being a cool chick, but if that was what she was going to get, then that's what it was. "Thank you, I appreciate that." She said, trying not to sound a little off-put.

"Welcome." He smiled a little. "Thanks for taking care of Paddy, too, that means a lot to me. He's never really had anyone other than me."

"I get that you two are a package deal. What's good for the gander is what's good for the goose." she hesitated for a moment. "and besides… I really miss having a little brother."

"Birds of a feather, flock together. Or something like that." He laughed then yawned.

"Yeah, all that jazz. You tired?"

"A little." He nodded. "You?"

"Eh, not really."

"Oh." He nodded. "What do you wanna do then?"

Marisol turned her head to look at him. She smiled a little, and pressed her lips to his.

Cook smirked against her lips and proceeded to kiss her back. He then chuckled. "I had a feeling that was coming."

Marisol laughed. She turned around and wrapped her arms round his neck. Between kisses, she said, "This has to be a new record for me. You're getting into my pants after four days. It took my neighbor at least a couple of weeks."

"Four days?" he kissed her back. "Damn. Thats a long time for me. Im used to four minutes."

"Yes," she replied while he bit her neck, eliciting a small gasp from her, "Like everybody says, Degrassi girls are classy girls."

"Mhm." He said between kisses at her neck. "classy. Right."

"If you were anyone else, you wouldn't even have kissed me by now." Marisol said. "Bedroom. Immediately."

Cool smirked and picked her up as he started walking. "Technically you kissed me first. You asked for it."

"I know. Like I said, if it were anyone else… There wouldn't have been a snowball's chance in hell."

Cook smirked and closed the bedroom door behind them. "Good thing I'm me then."

"Good thing my walls are sound proofed." Marisol laughed.

"Do you make a lot of noise? Because I sure as hell don't."

"Well, I tend to, with the right guy. Besides, we don't want to risk waking Paddy, now do we?" She beckoned him to the bed.

"He's used to it." Cook shrugged and walked over to the bed as he sat her down on it.

"And Taylor's here, too." Marisol said as she lifted Cook's shirt above his head and flung it to the ground.

Cook shrugged as he threw his shirt to the floor. "I dont care. She's crazy. She would probably join in."

"Wouldn't surpriIIIIIIISE ME!" Marisol squealed when he found her sweet spot, just behind her left ear. She unzipped her unitard and quickly pulled it off her legs with Cook's help.

Cook smirked, devouring her lips with his and plunging them into bliss.

The next morning, Marisol looked over at Cook and saw that he was awake. "Good morning, sunshine." She said.

Cook turned his head more in towards the pillow and groaned. "I don't wanna be awake." He pulled the blanket over his head

"I don't want it to be morning, but it is. I definitely don't want you to go home, but you're going to have to soon."

"Ah shit. I forgot I stayed here." He shook his head and finally stood up, then pulled his boxers back on.

"I said soon, but not too soon. Who said you could put those back on?"

"Wouldnt wanna over stay my welcome." he chuckled. "Plus. I'm sure you'll see me more today, I'm taking Paddy out to wherever he wants to go and if he likes you as much as you say, then he'll ask you to come."

"You're always welcome." Marisol said. She got up, walked over to him and kissed him. "Last night was…" Marisol was at a loss for words.

"I know." He chuckled. "Apparently there are no words. I've been told that before." He smirked. "I know. It was good."

"Cocky bastard." She said, smiling. She kissed him once more and then went to her bathroom nd started the shower. She came back and walked into her closet and tried to find something to wear. Cook had quickly slipped out of her room when she left to shower. He walked into the guestroom that Paddy was in, and sat in there with him.

"Cook, what are we gonna do today?" He asked. "Whatever you want, as soon as we go home and change."

"Can we go to the zoo?"

Cook nodded. "Yeah. I suppose I can take you to the zoo."

Marisol hopped in to the shower, washed her hair and body, then stepped out and wrapped a towel around herself. "Cook!" She yelled.  
>"One sec Pads." he hopped up from the bed and walled into the hallway. "Yeah?"<br>"Am I going on your adventure?" Marisol yelled, pulling on her top.  
>"If you want to." He shrugged and walked into her room. "It doesn't matter Pads is cool with it."<br>"Okay." She said, pulling on a pair of shorts. She walked out of the bathroom. "I'll drive you home, just let me get my shoes on."  
>Cook shrugged as he pulled the rest of his clothes on then called down the hall. "Paddy come on. We're going home." He waited as the little boy ran down the hall to him.<p>

"Oh, let me write a note to Taylor." Marisol scribbled on a Post-it and stuck it to her door, and then they were out the front.


	12. Birthday Dinner

Marisol didn't need to clean really, she tried to keep it nice. It made her feel like she was in control for once. She did, however, make sure that the kitchen was pristine because it was Cook. She wanted to impress him, but she just hoped that he didn't think differently about her when he saw everything in her appartment. It was nice, it seemed too nice for Cook. Not by any means was she was saying that he was low class, he just had a personality where he liked the whole grungy thing. Suddenly she felt like everything was too clean, so she put some dishes in the sink and strung a few articles of clothing around, on the couch, bed, floor. She stood in the center of her living room with her hands on her hips.

'There,' Marisol thought to herself. 'That's better.'

Cook had told Paddy where he was going, then left on his way. He wasn't sure what he was making or anything of the sorts. But it wouldn't be too hard. He wasn't even half naked this time, but instead in his jeans and a polo. His hair was messed up but he liked it like that. Double checking the address he nodded then knocked on her front door.

Marisol jumped a bit at the knock she heard. She checked her appearance in the mirror on the wall and walked to the door, timing it so he would think that she wasn't ten feet away. "Hey." She said, grinning like an idiot. Cook looked at her expectantly. "Oh! Come in, come in."

He nodded and walked inside of her house. "Nice place." He smiled. "Really, uh... clean." He took a look around again. "So, what am I cooking you this.." Taking a look at the clock he chuckled. "Evening."

Marisol mouthed fuck before closing the door and turning around. "Thank you. And, um, suprise me. Only this time I don't have any beer." She said, walking over to the island and hopping up on it, hitting her head on a hanging frying pan in the process. Cook laughed at her. "Frying pans. Who knew, huh?" Marisol said, laughing awkwardly.

"You really are nervous around me." He laughed and threw his phone on the counter, not bothering with it. "I don't know what you like." He walked over in front of her.

"I like a lot of things. A lot of these things don't involve food. But since we're both hungry, how about spaghetti?" Marisol said, leaning in a bit. Without looking, she handed him the pot that was sitting behind her and turned on the sink that was in the island as well.

"A lot of non-food things?" He smirked and winked at her, taking the pot. He began to fill it with water, then set it on the counter. "Noodles?" He began looking through the cabinets until he found them.

"Yeah, a lot of non food things. Latch-Hook, for example." Marisol said, watching Cook as he rummaged around her kitchen. "Puppies. Sleeping. Twister… In fact, I'm having a sexy twister party soon, you should come. It's actually a bit of a birthday party, seeing as it's my birthday tomorrow…" She got quieter on the last half of the sentance. She didn't really like to talk about her birthday. Bad things always managed to happen in the years before.

"Birthday? I might have to stop by." He smiled and began cooking up the meat and sauce. "Finally gonna be legal?" He winked again, seeing as many of the people here weren't really all that old.

"Not quite. Seventeen instead. I wish I was eighteen, then I could be free to be where ever I want, and no one can tell me what to do. I can go somewhere where nobody knows me. I was thinking Tennesse, actually. I hear it's nice in the States." She wanted to be free of her father at last. Free of her past. Well, not all of it, she wanted to keep her friends. She just hoped that her being under age didn't put Cook off.

"No shit? Seventeen." He shook his head. "Good thing jailbate has never bothered me before." He stirred the sauce a little bit, and checked the noodles. "The states. Never been to em, but they can't be all bad. I personally would go back to Bristol. Loved it there."

"Jailbait? Having Minor-Adult relationships is only illegal if the person is four years older than you, and there's no way that you are that much older than me. Besides, I've been told since I was in about sixth grade that I look and act way older than I am. Part of it is just my personality, part of it I was forced into." Marisol said, then she quickly went back to their conversation. "And you're from Bristol, aren't you? If you're far enough away from the place you grew up in, you don't mind going back, That's an obvious thing. States definitely aren't all bad, I want to live in Tennessee. I'm thinking of Universities there. UT is where my mom went. She grew up there, pretty well was raised on the campus."

"You and your mum close?" He asked, shaking his head at all thoughts of his own mum. "I've never understood parent/kids relationships." He shrugged, while draining the noodles. "My own mum doesn't give two fucks about me, shipped me out here just so she didn't have to deal with me. And me dads and alcoholic wouldn't surprise me if he's even around anymore."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that. My mom… she's not really… She commited suicide when I was nine. My dad, he hit me and her and my brother a lot. She was really depressed, lost mother, hated how we were living. Found her hanging in the foyer of our old house, so after a three week stint in the hospital for me, due to my dad absolutely losing it, my father, brother and I picked up and moved here. We were close, but sometimes I can't help but resent her. You know? She left me and my brother here with this man who makes our lives hell, and then my brother commited suicide as well, and then I had no one. At that point, I didn't even have Taylor. But I stayed with my dad, because if I thought that I had no one, he had no one and nothing. It got really bad at times, and my friends begged me to tell someone, ask for help but I wouldn't do it. He put me in the hospital for two weeks and then I was done. And somehow, he undersood that. So he set me up here. And wow, I just unloaded all of that on you, didn't I? I'm sorry."

"Yeah." He nodded and scooped her up a plate of food. "It's alright though. I get it." He nodded again, not really knowing what to say, so instead he changed the subject. "I hope you're hungry. Because I hate red sauces."

"Well, why the fuck didn't you suggest something else then?" Marisol asked. "You're weird, by the way. Seriously, I don't want to eat and have you not eat. I can put this away and we'll say I owe you another since you're providing me with food for tomorrow. We can order in."

"You said you wanted this, so that's what you got. I was just making you feel good." He shrugged. "I don't care what we do. I just don't like chillin' out alone. It gets boring fast."

"Well, thanks, then. Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes I just wish I had someone else around you know? Like, a dog or something." Suddenly, Marisol's doorbell wrang. 'What the hell?' She thought. "Probably just one of the kids on this damn floor playing ding-dong ditch." She told Cook.

"Go check it out. If it is, then they'll be back." He nodded waiting for her to check it out. "If they do come back, I have a plan."

Marisol stood and walked to the door. When she opened it there was a box there.

"What the fuck?" She said. She stared at the box, shook it a little. Then she felt it move. "What the actual fuck?!" She yelled. She held the box at arms length, and carried it inside. "Cook, open it." She said, tossing to the floor in front of him, then sitting back down. Cook shrugged, undoing the top flaps of the box, then he looked over to me in disbelief. "What is it?" She asked. "Speak of the devil. It's a fucking dog." Cook said. "WHAT?" Mariol exclaimed. She ran to look in the box, and in it sat a little beige Corgie. "Fucking Taylor!" Marisol said, picking the cute little furball up.

Cook laughed, and stood back up. "At least it's small?" He laughed again. "Happy birthday to you."

"OH MY GOD IT'S ADORABLE AND HIS NAME IS NORRINGTON AND I'M GOING TO KEEP HIM FOREVER." Then, another bell. Marisol sighed, exasperated. "Looks like the little fuckers really are out playing tonight. Could you take care of that?"

"I got this." Cook smirked and took his shirt off, then grabbed a nearby squirt gun and walked outside. He then began to laugh. "Look! It was a bunch of girls." He smirked as they started to watch him.

The shirt came off. bad things tended to happen when they were in a room together and the shirt came off. Marisol carried Norrington with her around the appartment and wrote down a list of things that she was going to need for him. Once Cook left (If he left at all) she would go to geth pet supply store if it wasn't really late. For the night, she would just need to set up a make-shift cage out of… something. Outside, she heard a shriek. She laughed to herself and yelled out the open door, "GIVE 'EM HELL FOR ME, COOKIE!"

Cook laughed outside, as he started talking to the girls. It probably didn't look good if people were watching, beings that he was shirtless and in the middle of the street with three or four girls. They were giggling, and flipping their hair, complimenting him, all of it.

Marisol successfully created a pen out of two chairs and a bedsheet and plopped Norrington in it. Cook had been gone for a while, and it couldn't have taken him that long to run the kids off, so she stepped outside and saw him surrounded by a group of girls in full swing flirt mode. Not that she could blame them, Cook was a very attractive specimen, and he could turn on the charm when he wanted to, but it still pissed her off.

"Cook." She called, but he hadn't heard her. "COOK!" She yelled, and everyone stopped talking. "Are you coming back inside?"

Cook had looked up. "Uh, yeah. Be right there." He nodded and told the girls goodbye, after having a few numbers written along his arm in permanent marker he finally got back inside. "Hey."

"Hi." She said tersely. She knew it was ridiculous to be angry with him, but she couldn't help but feel a bit jealous. "Sluts, all of them. They're from around here. I swear there's a brothel somewhere up the street."

"Sluts aren't bad people." He smirked and looked along his arm. "They liked me, it was fun. I like having friends." He chuckled.

"That's certainly not what I was saying." Marisol defended. "And everyone likes you. But I think I've figured something out about you. I don't think you know who you can trust."

"Who I can trust?" He asked. "I don't trust anyone, cept Paddy. That's all. Everyone else fucks you over."

"I know what that's like. Oh, let's use this again, it was fun last time. Fact: I wear my heart on my sleeve. I can be friends with anybody, learn to trust anybody and then have my heart stomped on by anybody. So let's make a little agreement, you and me. You promise not to stomp on my heart, and I promise you can trust me. With anything."

Cook took it into consideration. "Deal." He nodded. "How would I know if I even stomped on your heart?"

"Oh, you would know. You seem like you're sharper than the average tack. You could figure it out."

"Don't give me too much credit now." He laughed.

"I have a theory that everyone could be a genius, but I think you, and I for that matter, are being judged by our interests and pasts. Say we're fish right? Well, a fish can go it's entire life thinking it's an average fish. But when you judge a fish by it's ability to climb a tree, you can't expect the fish not to think themselves stupid. I feel stupid every day of my life. I hate that I feel that way. I can't stand people who make me feel that way.

Yeah.." He looked around, a bit lost. "Fish..right.." He shook his head, made a little face. "To be honest, you lost me on that one, starfish." He winked at her.

"Basically, if you judge a person by something they can't do… I'm never gonna live that down am I?" She smiled and then covered her eyes with her hands. "What is wrong with me? Some days I feel like I'm going crazy. Others. I feel like I'm on top of the world. The days in between, I feel like everything is slipping throught my fingers."

Cook shrugged. Still not really knowing what to say. "So…" He looked around again. "Wanna go do something?"

"Like what?" Marisol looked up at him, cocking an eyebrow.

"I dunno." He shrugged. "Something that doesn't require a shirt, mainly because I don't wanna wear one, and partly because your dog just stole mine."

"What? Oh, he did didn't he? I'm sorry. Well, come the hell over here, we can watch a movie or snuggle or something."

Cook nodded, liking the sounds of that. "Sounds like a good time." He walked over by her, and sat down on the couch.

Marisol exhaled through her mouth and leaned her head against his shoulder. "What's Paddy doing?" she asked.

Cook glanced at the clock. "Probably sleeping, or eating. I'm not exactly sure." He shrugged and moved his arm around her shoulder.

Marisol clutched at his arm with both of her hands and sighed. "You must love him a lot to take care of him like you do. I can't wait to see what kind of little person he is." She turned her nos clightly into his neck and breathed in. He smelled like… rain on hot pavement. And weed, there was definitely some of that in there.

It was not an unpleasant smell.

"I do." He nodded. "A lot actually. I love the little guy." He smiled and looked at the blank screen. "I love this show." He said, smirking.

"Shut up and let me be." She said. handing him the remote without moving. "You're wonderful, Cookie, you know that?"

"I've been told a few times." He chuckled and flipped through channels. "American Football…Oprah…Cartoon…Baseball." He smiled and turned on the baseball game. "Perfect."

"Difference in me and other people: I mean it, and everything else I say. If you're putting on baseball, you better be willing to carry me to bed, because this shit puts me to sleep, literally."

He shook his head and handed her the remote. "Find something else then."

"Ugh, That requires brain effort, I'm too full and tired for that. Leave it, if I fall asleep, I'll just sleep on the couch. I don't care."

"I could carry you to your bed." He laughed.

"Please? I Seriously couldn't move my legs if I wanted to." Marisol was so foggy, by this point all she could hope for was that she wouldn't say anything to over the top or out of line to Cook. The last thing she wanted was to lose him especially after she had just gained his trust.

"Yeah." He nodded. "I might as well just take you now." He stood up, then picked her up. "Which way?" Marisol pointed to the door just beyond the kitchen and Cook carried her there. He sat her gently on the bed. He sat her down and covered her up.

"All done." He nodded. "Anything else you need?"

"Stay with me?" She said lazily, sleep almost overcoming her. "Just tonight." Cook hesitantly nodded.

"Alright. I guess I can, where are your blankets and shit, I'll crash on the couch."

"Only blankets are on my bed. I'm almost asleep anyways, it'll be fine."

"Alright." He shrugged and walked over to the opposite side of the bed, and laid down. Marisol turned over so she was facing him.

"Thank you Cookie. Fight off the bed bugs for me, okay?" Cook nodded.

"Will do, darlin'." He smiled and pulled the blanket up.

"Nighty-night, love." Marisol said, and she drifted off to sleep.


	13. The Park

Cook and Paddy were walking around the park. Well, Paddy was sitting on the slide and Cook was just watching. "COOK!" Paddy yelled to him. "Can I climb on top?" Cook shrugged. "I don't care go for it." He nodded towards his brother. "Cool! Help me!" Cook laughed and walked over towards the slide and began to help little Paddy onto the top of it.

Marisol leashed Norrington and grabbed her wallet and phone, walking out the front door and to her car. She plopped Norrington into the passenger's seat and buckled her seatbelt. Cook had left that morning without waking her or leaving a note. It hadn't bothered her, but it had made her think the entire night was a dream. It didn't make sense that he would stay with her, because of his little brother, but he had. And she couldn't help but be a bit confused.

She pulled into a parking space in front of the park, searching for Cook and his Mini-Me, and she found them at the slide; Cook was helping Paddy to the top. Marisol sat there for a minute, observing Cook while he was acting a way he hadn't acted around her in the three days she had known him. He looked back at her, and then she got out of the car, setting Norrington on the ground.

"Hi." She said as she walked up to him.

Cook and Paddy were walking around the park. Well, Paddy was sitting on the slide and Cook was just watching. "COOK!" Paddy yelled to him. "Can I climb on top?" Cook shrugged. "I don't care go for it." He nodded towards his brother. "Cook! Help me!" Cook laughed and walked over…

"Hey." He smiled, as he got Paddy to the top. "Sorry I left early today, this little bugger was freaking out." He shook his head. "I couldn't find the toast!" Paddy yelled down.

It's okay. Actually, I thought you were never there. Thought it was a dream." Marisol looked down, and then walk over to the slide, crossing her arms on it and resting her chin on her arms. "Hello Paddy, I'm Marisol, Cook's friend. It's very nice to meet you."

"You're a girlllllllllllllllll." Paddy laughed. "Cookie has lots of girl friends, but no boys. Was he with you last night? Is that why he didn't come home? Did you kiss? Was he in your bed?" "Woah, Paddy, enough with the questions squirt." Cook had finally stopped him.

"Well, here's the difference in me and all those other girl friends he has: he can trust me, and so can you. If you ever need anything but Cook says no, just come to me." Marisol said, and winked at Paddy. She turned back to Cook and smiled deviously. "I'll spoil him rotten. I swear I will."

Cook shook his head. "No you won't. He's not your child, and he doesn't need to be spoiled." He turned his head. "See he's perfectly fine playing with random pieces of sand and shit."

"I was just kidding. He seems like a perfectly happy kid anyways. He's just adorable in every way. Is your mom helping you at all? Not seeing him, obviously, but financially?" Marisol asked.

"Yeah." He nodded. "She's loaded, so as much as she doesn't wanna help us she still does." He shrugged. "She didn't even know he was here at first, I had to go and kidnap him."

"Oh.. Well, it's good that she's helping you at dad, he knows he fu- messed up, so he fronts everything. He's in stocks." Marisol explained. "Youkidnapped him? Did she send out an Amber alert, or did she just not care?"

"Nah." Cook shook his head. "She didn't even know he was gone until about a week later when I called and actually had told her."

"Wow, talk about bad parenting. She just ignores you both doesn't she? I shouldn't have told you not to call her a bitch, because she really is isn't she?"

"She is." He nodded. "She doesn't care at all, only when it's convenient for her. I was under house arrest, yeah? Well I had to stay with her, that wasn't good for her, so I had to leave." He shook his head and sat down in the sand, quickly sneaking a peek over at Paddy.

"You were in Bristol right? Where did you go when you went?" She asked, having a seat on the ground in front of him and crossing her legs.

"On the run, stayed and found my dad, then that went to shit and I left there too." He shook his head, realizing how fucked up it sounded.

"That must have been really hard. Did you have anyone at all that you could go to? When did you move here? Why, other than Paddy?" She asked, placing Norrington in her lap.

Cook shook his head. "No one. Always just me. I'm used to it now. Everyone else came here, Scar, Jordan, Katie, all of em." He shrugged as Paddy came over and sat beside him. "Paddy is my brother. He just means the most to me."

"So they all just left you? Even Scar?" She asked, and he nodded. She placed her hand on his knee. "You know you have me right? I told you last night, but I really am here. I meant what I said, and I said what I meant, and Marisol's faithful, one hundred percent." She said, passing Norrington to Paddy.

Cook chuckled at her rhyme. "Thanks babe. That means a lot to me. I'll remember that."

She laughed as well. It was a reference to a Dr. Seuss book, "Horton Hatches an Egg". "Good. Now, I heard something about Scarlett? What's going on there?"

"I really don't know." He shook his head. "She fuckin loves Sid or something."

"No, it's kind of obvious that she loves you. And I know you love her. But that's not it. I heard she was in a coma. Didn't you know that?"

"Yeah I know. They wouldn't let me go see her."

"Did they tell you why? I mean, I didn't because it wasn't my place, but you're her boyfriend for god's sake."

"Apparently I don't look like the type of guy that would visit someone in a hospital."

"How can they judge like that? Something needs to be done about this. That's not fair to you. I don't understand. You got the call didn't you? They obviously know you're her boyfriend. This makes no since."

"Take a look at me. I don't go to hospitals. I send people to them." He shrugged and sat back in the sand.

"Well, that's a good way to explain it. But you know what? I don't think youwant to beat the crap out of people all the time. It's still not right for them to judge someone by what they act like or look like."

"Yeah, that's life though. You tend to get used to it when you're me."

Marisol shook her head. "You shouldn't have to put up with that. No one should."

He shrugged and stood up to see Paddy already sleeping. "I should probably get him to bed."

"Yeah, I can give you a ride home if you like." Marisol said, standing with him and picking up an also-sleeping Norrington.

"Sure. Thanks." He smiled and picked up Paddy.

Marisol smiled at him with the smile that was reserved for only Taylor and started towards her car. She opened up the back right door and watched as Cook set Paddy slowly in. He got in the passenger's seat and Marisol got in the driver's and hand Norrington to him. "You know, when I was little, I only ever felt safe in the car when it was just me and my mom. We'd be coming home from the movies and I would be almost asleep in the back, looking up at the sky through the back wind sheild. It was like she was driving my bed. I remember before things got really bad, my dad would always carry me in and tuck me into bed after these nights."

"That sounds nice." He nodded and looked at the dog on his lap. "I usually put him to bed, I'm the best thing he's got."

"It used to be nice. And then things turned to shit." Marisol could feel Cook staring at her as she drove toward his place. "I felt bad last night, but I was too unconscious to vocalize it. If Paddy was all alone, you could have brought him, too. I don't think he's old enough to look after himself yet."

"He's not, but he's used to it as well. I don't leave him alone too often though."

"Well, now I feel worse. You should have gone home last night. I'm sorry to have kept you, it just gets super-lonely at my place. Taylor never comes over. I just want to be some place that's full of… life. You know what I mean?"

"No really. It's fine." He smiled. "No worries. I don't mind your company. I don't like being alone either."

"I just want to fill those two empty rooms. At least you have Paddy, and I'm sure he's lively enough. I know I have Norrington. He can't talk though, and it's a bit weird to talk to your pet. I like having you around. I feel like you understand me, maybe even better than people that three months ago I would have considered my closest friends."

"You've seen the size of my house. It's huge. You know you can stay with us whenever you want." He nodded and smiled.

Marisol smiled again. "Thank you. I may take you up on that. It's still a little awkward having an ex live right next door. A piece of advice? Don't fuck your neighbors."

Cook laughed. "Too late." He shrugged.

"Cook!" Marisol shook her head as they pulled into his driveway.

"Those girls from last night? Yeah, we met before that time."

"Were you with Scarlett when this happened?"

"No, oh god no."

"Good, I was about to say…"

"Definitely not while I was with her." He chuckled a little and looked forward and saw his house.

"Okay. Do you need help getting him inside?"

"Nah. I can get him." He said, while getting out and picking up Paddy. "Thanks though."

"Okay, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah." He nodded then leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Happy birthday." Then he walked inside his house. Marisol grinned to herself. He had remembered. Yes, she'd told him about it last night, but he had still remembered. She touched her cheek. She took this kiss as if it were a gift.


	14. The Beginning

Cook had finished picking up around his place. Paddy was out with someone so it was just Cook. He sat down on the couch and flipped on the TV while waiting for Marisol. After a few more minutes he heard the door bell, so he stood up and walked over to the door, opening it in just his sweatpants. "Hey." He nodded. "Marisol, yeah?"

Marisol was kind of excited just to be in the presence of a boy again, especially after the whole fiasco with Oliver. Yeah, so this particular boy was taken. She didn't want to betray Scarlett's trust by any means, but she hadn't expect Cook to answer his door half naked.

"Hey. Marisol, yeah?" Cook asked, and Marisol nodded, handing him the McRib she had just bought. The things were completely disgusting to her.

"You talk at all?" He looked at her after taking the bag. "You can come in..." He opened the door more and waited for her to walk in before closing it. "Couch, chair, whatever you wanna sit on is fine." Opening the bag, he walked over and sat down on the couch. "Thanks for the food babes."

"Of course. I talk by the way. I'm avoiding the whole rambling thing." Marisol took a seat on a ragged armchair and sat ramrod straight. It was weird being around Cook. It was like as soon as she saw him, all the air go sucked out of the room. He made her uncomfortable, but not the bad kind of uncomfortable. He had these lazy puppy dog eyes that could see every thing about you as soon as he looked at you.

It freaked her out while turning her on all at the same time. Not that the whole no-shirt thing was helping.

"And you're welcome."

Cook nodded and took a bite of the sandwich. "I don't mind rambling, just not when it gets freaky." He smirked, then winked at her. He didn't really know much about her, but she wasn't bad looking and he wouldn't mind listening to her.

The wink was ridiculously unnerving.

"Ugh, I STILL can't believe I said that! I am such an idiot. Fucking starfish…" Marisol hung her head in shame. If Marisol came anywhere close to red, she was at that moment. She noticed Cook had a bit of barbecue sauce on his lip.

"You have a…" She motioned to her lip.

"Huh?" He watched her, then licked the wrong side of his lips. "Did I get it?" He asked, then noticed that the napkins were over by her. He sat back, not really caring. It didn't bother him, if it bothered her, she could get it off of him.

Marisol started to stand and go for the napkins.

'Don't do this, he's off limits. You don't want the wrath of Scarlett.'

Instead, she stood up and threw the napkins at him, giving off a giggle as they drifted slowly to the floor.

"Damn, didn't get it." She said with a smile.

Cook laughed and picked one up wiping his mouth once he was finished eating. "Thanks again dollface." He winked again. "It was good, I'll be sure to cook you something next time." He actually was a decent chef. "Or for dinner." He shrugged. "Either one works. Cute giggle too."

'Him and those damn sexy winks…' Marisol thought to herself. She internally damned her sexual frustrations.

"Okay, I'm cool with that. Y'know, you really should quit doing that, what with your GIRLFRIEND and all. It's much too persuasive." She would jump Cook in a second if it weren't for Scarlett. "And don't you use the whole ' I hardly see her' excuse since you were with ehr last night."

Cook shrugged. "So? You act like I follow rules and shit, never have and never will. Part of life." He stood up and walked into the kitchen. What people didn't know couldn't hurt them, right? He shook his head and walked back into the living room then stretched. "Do you want anything to drink or something?"

"I'm not expecting you to follow the rules. I break 'em too, so I don't care. I just don't want the wrath of your entire crew coming down on me. That's about nine beatings waiting to happen. Surpirse me. What ever you have in there" Marisol projected.

Cook chuckled, then turned around and walked back into his kitchen. He opened the fridge and grabbed two beers. "I hope beer is good." He walked and back in and handed it to her.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks." At least she could handle her liquor. Marisol was quite glad that she hadn't know Cook when her drunken text messages had managed to get around to everybody she knows. She still hadn't lived that one down.

He nodded and sat back down on the couch, stretching out again then sitting back. "No problem. Now tell me something." He looked over at her. "Anything, other than the fact that I make you nervous." He smirked and winked again.

"Well, I'm on my right now. I mean, I'm in my own place, and I kind of don't have many people I can lean on." Marisol said, and what else could she say? She had a bad habit of wearing her heart on her sleeve, and this time she was determined not to be weak with this guy. He was too intense for that.

"Sounds interesting." He nodded, knowing what it was like to be on your own. "Me too, well I mean my house is great, but I'm not the only one who lives here." He shrugged, referring to his nine year old brother.

"Oh, so that's who the pictures are of." Marisol smiled and stood up, walking over to a bookshelf where there sat a snapshot of cook with a little Cookie under his arm. "He's adorable." In this moment, she longed for a roomate. She was kind of sad on her own, and it was still akward with Matt living right next door to her.

"Brother." He explained. "Mums a bitch, had to get him away from that." He sat back down, not wanting to think of any part of it.

"Don't. Don't say that about your mom. Someday you may not have one to even mention." Marisol said, still looking at the picture. "It's good that you love him enough to take him in. Must be hard for him not to have a mother figure around."

"It's true. She shipped me out here, shipped me to camp, shipped me to jail." He shrugged. "But uh, new topic yeah?" He hated talking about his life, hated it.

"Okay, so what about you? this little game is tit-for-tat. I gave you a fact, now it's your turn." Marisol had noticed he was a take-no-bullshit kind of guy, so she figure, why beat around the bush?

"A fact?" He thought for a moment. "I've probably been picked up by the cops, more then you've been picked up for school in your lifetime."

Marisol turned from the shelf and cocked an eyebrow. "a criminal. I like it." She giggled. She had never really been attracted to bad boys, or white boys for that manner, and no matter how much she told herself she couldn't like Cook, she had to admit that she was. She just couldn't act on it.

"Antoher fact: I'm highly attracted to you and I can't figure out why. I mean, I just met you and it's kind of weird, and I don't want to be a starfish. And I'm rambling again and you can stop me at any time."

"I don't wanna stop you." He smirked and stepped closer to her. "I like hearing it." He got closer yet again. "Another fact about me? I enjoy breaking the rules, on anything." He smirked and got to where it looked like he was gonna kiss her, but instead whispered. "I happen to like starfish." He smirked then stood back up and walked to the kitchen.

Marisol slumped back against the book case as Cook walked away.

She looked down at her goose-pimpled arms.

"That sorry mother fucker." She muttered.

"What was that?" Cook yelled from the kitchen. Marisol rolled her eyes and followed him to the kitchen, hopping up on the counter.

Cook smirked, happy with himself, he turned around and saw her on the counter. "Well hello."

"Hi. Is it already my turn again?" Marisol pondered. She swung her legs from the counter top. "Fact: this is the first altercation with a male subject that I've had where there were no awkward gaps in the conversation. You're good company."

"Damn, no shit?" He was impressed. "That takes skill I guess. Or the fact that I don't stop talking."

"Nope, and this conversation is becoming increasingly…interesting." Marisol said seductively, abandoning all conscious thoughts of Scarlett stabbing her repeatedly in the face. "Your turn." She smirked.

"Hm." He leaned against the counter beside her. "Fact; I've never been nervous with girls, and I've been called a sex god."

"Really? A god? I would have guessed fiend, but a god? Huh. Fact: I've never been nervous around anyone until you came along. I'm popular and guys think I'm sexy, but I've never been in a serious relationship. I like the idea of it, but it just doesn't happen for me for some reason. It's kind of depressing. I mean, there was the guy next door to me who I had sex with, and there was He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Mentioned but otherwise there's been no one."

Cook nodded and kept it short, but simple. "Fact; you're cute when you ramble."

"Fact: I fucking hate you!" She punched his shoulder and ran to the living room, hoping like hell he would chase her.

Cook shook his head and took off after her, he caught up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist then, picked her up. "Fact; I'm faster than you."

"Fact: I want you to cutt the bullshit, and kiss me already."

"Fact; I can't be accused of cheating if you make the first move."

"Fact: Asking you toisthe first move, and is also going to screw up my life, so you better make it worth it."

"Fuck it." He shrugged and leaned in, then kissed her.

She wrapped her arns around his neck and suddenly he was everywhere, and it was like the world was on fire. The room was ridiculously hot and Marisol was already in just shorts and a tank top. Marisol made use of her nails across Cook's wide back, successfully earning a hiss from him.

Cook smirked against her lips, knowing full well that he wasn't going to let anything more happen.

"What?" Marisol asked breathily. She looked up at Cook questioningly, a bit confused.

"Nothing." He smirked. "I'm just not going to fuck you."

Marisol leaned close into his ear, whispering "What makes you think I wanted that in the first place?" She bit his earlobe, turning and walking toward her armchair.

"And now we're right back where we started."

Cook nodded and sat down. "Yes we are."

"Last time I checked, it was your turn."

"Fact; my girlfriend is gonna beat me."

"Fact: Now I feel like a bitch."

"Fact; I did it, not you."

"But I asked you to, so that would put me at fault and I should feel bad because girls don't surf and turf other girls men until they're completely done with them. It's girl code and I've just commited social suicide."

"We didn't fuck. It was one kiss.."

"You have a point, but you know Scarlett's going to freak out. I don't blame her, I was adamant that I wasn't going to do anything, and then I did. I don't regret it, I just don't want to make an enemy of her."

"It'll be fine. I'll explain myself."


End file.
